Misguided Roses
by Lioness1
Summary: There was a legend lost centuries ago, of a daughter of Rome who came to Britain during the reign of Arthur. What became of her, and how she changed the fate of his knights remained unknown until now. This is the story of Arria. STORY COMPLETE. PLEASE RR
1. Default Chapter

Of course, its mary suish…but comeon on, deep inside we all love the fics that deal with "what if"…and who knows, maybe you'll find something unique in this tale of long ago

Rome was not safe anymore. My father Nicoteles knew this was certain, and that times were changing fast. Corruption plagued the Senate, the Church was evolving to fit the ambition of mankind. My father and his friend Pelegius spoke often in whispered tones of the dishonesty and bribery that pursued "in the name of the Father". The term Christianity lost its true meaning to many, and became a source of power.

I was seventeen when Pelegius was killed, murdered by the order of Bishop Germanius, excommunicated because of his beliefs. My father believed our family was next. Instead, the Pope ordered us to go with the Bishop to the land of Britain to bring back his prize pupil Electo. Father despised Marius but was one of Electo's mentors. Father knew that leaving his three daughters in Rome was not a good idea, so we were brought along, under the protection of a man named Leon.

During our long journey, Leon taught Marciana, Domitia and I a few hand to hand combat tricks (away from the eyes of Bishop Germanius), as well as the use of sword. "You do not know what is out there in that savage land," he recited the fifteenth time one day while practicing. We were now aboard a ship crossing the channel from Gaul to Britain. "Nicoteles and Germanius may not think it necessary, but I've been there. And there's no use protecting the weak. The weak always suffer in the end. You will be strong." So he claimed.

As high ranking Roman women, it was uncommon to be schooled in history, geography, arithmancy, or anything else, really. It was uncommon, but not unheard of. Father took great pride in schooling us, perhaps because there was no male heir in the family to take over. This was one of our many secrets.

The night before we docked on the British Isle I knocked on my father's door. "Come in!" he barked. I opened the door to find him hard at work, scribbling down notes on a parchment of paper.

"Oh, Arria, come in child." He softened when he saw me. I smiled slightly, a bit worried by his nervous gaze. "What is it, my dear?" he questioned warmly, desperately trying not to show his concern.

I quickly shut the door, and peered about before speaking. "Father, I don't know if speaking to you is the right thing to do. Marciana said I was being paranoid, and Domitia said not to bother you, but-"

"But what?" he enquired, strangely peering about as well.

I continued. "I don't feel safe here. The Bishop whispers too often with his guards, often looking at my sisters and I with smiles. There is conspiracy father, I can smell it." I was always bold with my father, my sisters always scolding me afterwards, but he never seemed to mind my frankness. I noticed the first traces of gray beginning to form on his beard as he smiled.

"Arria, you would have made a great general…or spymaster…or senator even. Ahhh, if you had only been born a man." He gently touched my cheek with his hand. "You are a quick learner, and quite perceptive. I, too, feel uneasy around the Bishop and his men, but our orders are from the Pope to go with him. I doubt even Bishop Germanius would dare go against the Pope." He ended, signaling me to leave. Even though he spoke encouragingly, fear still lingered in my mind. A chill went through my spine as I peered out the bow. A deep fog settled on the British Isle, the mist enwrapping its wings around us.

We were on the southern border, about five days walk to Hadrian's Wall, where we were supposed to give a man name Arturius Castus his instructions on rescuing Marius and his family from the Saxons. Marciana fanned herself in the carriage, gazing bored out the window. Domitia was asleep on my right, snoring lightly. The carriage stopped. I was the first to get out, thinking we were taking yet another break. We were on the outskirts of one of the many forests, a stream just north of where we sat. I stretched and walked over to where Leon stood, puzzled.

My father was off his horse, discussing something with Germanius. I was about twenty yards away. Out of my peripheral vision I noticed the guards nearest me walking closer, their hands leaning towards their sides where their swords usually sat on their belts. "Leon.." I whispered. He did not reply at first. He turned to face me, slipping me one of his daggers. I put it away before anyone could see.

He turned back around, the guards drawing nearer. Ahead of me, Germanius slapped my father across the face. I jumped. They were slightly within earshot.

"The Pope did not think you were treasonous, but I knew all along you and Pelegius conspired against Rome. Now all will hear of your attempts to murder young Electo and the necessary deaths of your family that I had to order." He opened his blade and before my father could blink, the sword protruded from his back, his look one of surprise and sadness. My sisters screamed from the carriage, apparently witnessing it all from their window. Leon leapt upon the guards nearest us, as I stood by, too shocked to move.

"Arria!" He screamed in between fights. "Get the horses! Get your sisters!" Reality came back to me and I nodded, running towards one of the guards who held two horses by him. He drew his sword and I ducked out of the way. Before he could turn around I plunged my dagger into his side, yelling as I did so. Fear struck me hard, I shook all over, my body not wanting to take another step.

Somehow I worked up enough energy to mount one of the horses and ride towards my sisters carriage. The Bishop opened the carriage door before I could get there, screams from inside growing louder. Leon tried tackling three guards at once, but a fourth snuck up behind him, slitting his throat. He sunk to the ground silently, my eyes gasped in horror, not knowing what to do. Four of the Bishop's guards advanced on me. I couldn't go forward. I backed the horse up as they plowed at me. For a moment I saw the Bishop emerge from the carriage, wiping blood off his face. The screams had stopped. So did my heart. Tears stung at my eyes. I was truly alone now. The guards continued to rush towards me, there was no where else to go but into the trees. Two on horseback pursued, as I heard Germanius yell, "Kill her! She must not get away!"

Racing the horse as fast as I could, I led the two riders on a hunt deep into the forest. They were trailing but twenty feet behind, urging their mares forward. My eyes were blurred because of my tears, my heart pounding with fear. A moment later an arrow whizzed past my ear, hitting the tree beside me. My horse reared, the reins no longer controllable. I couldn't hold on, and soon I felt myself out of the mare's back and unto the ground, hitting my head on a log in the process. My eyes blurred for but a second as I watched…I think…blue men racing towards the guards? I attempted to get up, but found it difficult. I leaned over on my back, edging along with my elbows. I stopped. In front of me stood an old man, his skin blue, bizarre paintings across his arms and face. As I peered, mesmerized by his look, I soon felt a sharp stab against the back of my head, and his face was the last thing I saw.

I awoke in the dead of night, that same eerie mist surrounding me. I was next to a fire, with about five men staring wide eyed at me, their hands ready to draw their daggers and knives. They left as that same elderly man came to sit next to me. Their leader, I decided.

Surprisingly, he spoke not of his own language. "You are Roman?"

I simply nodded. Memories flooded back to the day before. Or has it been longer? My father…my sisters….dead.

He continued. "Why were you being chased like a savage from those other Romans? Are you pagan?"

I shook my head. It was too soon to speak. He realized this, but stared intently at me. "My men want to kill you. I wanted to hear your side first. You must speak."

Apparently I had no choice. I soon found tears beginning to run down my cheeks once more. "We were betrayed. We were sent here to rescue a boy, and we were betrayed by the Romans."

"Who is this 'we'?" he questioned, his face like stone.

"My father and sisters. The Bishop killed them. They went to kill me, because they do not want our beliefs in Rome." His face was still ice cold. I could not tell what he was thinking.

"What do they want from Britain?" he questioned, his eyes narrowing.

"They say thousands of Saxons…you know these people? They say the Saxons have come to take over Britain. We came here to save a Roman family before the Saxons reached them." My eyes darkened. I raged within, longing for revenge. I felt guilty…I sensed something was wrong, I should have shouted something to Father.

He knew, something inside my head replied. He knew we would be betrayed, but there was nothing he could do.

"What is your name?" he finally asked.

I gulped and took a deep breath. "Arria. The last of the family Gaius."

He sighed, looking at his hidden comrades from afar. "You have been helpful to us, Arria. I must discuss your future with the others." He left me for about an hour, just as the sun began to make its way up the sky.

"The others want you dead, but I have convinced them that on our raid on your Roman soldiers tomorrow, you will raid them with us. They think you will die. I however, am not so sure. You will either get your revenge, or you will die. Either way, you leave us." I could only nod, taking it all in. "We go now."

The Picts were fast runners, and I could barely keep up if not for the archers behind me that will strike if I lag behind. By nightfall I could here the horses of the Romans. I learned we would strike them the next morning. One of the Pict women gave me thoughtful clothes to wear- a devilishly revealing top and bottoms that fit both my legs. Still, it was definitely more comfortable than my tearing robe. My dagger, which was taken away from me, was now returned. I doubt they trusted me with it, but still, I was but a youthful Roman girl, what could I possibly do?

That night I couldn't sleep. My father's death raced through my head nonstop. My sisters' screams drowned my mind. I tossed and turned, writhing at the thought of Leon's throat being slit. Everything I had was gone. All that remained was rage. I wanted it all to end. I wanted to die. I wanted vengeance.

I vomited early in the morning, exhausted yet still angered. I held tight to my dagger as we walked to the edge of the forest. I watched as one of the guards dressed up like the bishop and entered the carriage. I smirked. "Your games won't work" I whispered into the wind. Suddenly screams erupted as the Picts charged the Romans, I with them.

What little defense Leon taught me I used, dodging swords and racing through the now various individual fights. Germanius was at the back, fighting off two Picts at once. I couldn't get closer without going through one of the guards. Looking towards the east, I watched as seven knights flooded unto the battle scene, one in Roman armor. My eyes narrowed as hatred towards all Romans seeped through my mind. The Picts, now aware of the new intruders, started fighting them as well. One of the Romans advanced on me, luckily a Pict stabbed him through the back before he could get to me. I stood stiff, not sure what to do. I couldn't fight well, I wouldn't make it to Germanius. Suddenly one of seven new fighters was getting close. He had two swords out, killing the Picts left and right. I gulped, unsure of what to do. His eyes met mine for a split second, he looked confused, then continued fighting. One of the Picts, an older, ferocious looking one, stared me down and came at me. Apparently I wasn't popular among them, especially now that their leader wasn't there to prevent them from killing me. I backed up as he advanced, then dodged his knife by inches. I swung out with my dagger and he easily got out of the way of it, punching me in the ribs as he did so. He flipped me in the air and I landed on my back, aching. Before he could drive his knife through me I kicked him in a soft spot. He toppled over and I stabbed him. He didn't move. I breathed heavily, not believing I was still alive. The fights were dying out, only a few Picts were left. They would not win. And I couldn't run. I was stuck. Suddenly I saw a Pict advance behind the knight that had stared at me. He did not notice him. Not knowing what else to do, I ran up behind the Pict and stabbed him in the side before his dagger reached the knight. The knight turned, and gave me a look of surprise.

I was scared, and was about to turn and run when I felt something painful go slightly into my lower back. Germanius whispered in my ear, "Nice disguise, but I'm no fool. You are not going to ruin me, little rose." I stared forward, straight into the eyes of the knight. His eyes widened in shock. My eyesight began to blur, but I saw his sword stare inches from Germanius' throat. I still stood, partly held by the hair from the Bishop's hand.

"Lancelot!" The Roman knight yelled. "What are you doing?" All fights were over. The Picts were dead.

"This girl saved my life and this guard tried to kill her."

"That guard is the Bishop." The Roman knight turned to Germanius. "Release her." He unhooked my hair from his fingers, and I felt myself sliding to the ground. Before I could hit it, a bald, built man with an axe caught me. I felt the blood rushing out of me, my life ending….with Germanius but a few feet from me.

The knight called Lancelot took me from the bald guy and gently put me upon his black gelding. I tried speaking but found it too painful. Darkness enveloped me, and I thought I was about to join my sisters and father.


	2. vengeance

Misguided Roses chapter 2

I love reviews, and I want to respond to anyone who reviews, because they are greatly appreciated. I love constructive criticism, and I would be happy to answer any questions regarding king Arthur, my writing (or lack there of), or anything in general about life.

Devonshirelass- Thanks for the review! I hope I can make updates regularly, but school should be starting up again in a month and I plan to get in atleast 4 more chapters before then…after that…if this story is still well received…we'll see how often I update.

Dracula's Princess- Lancelot is my favorite character in the King Arthur movie and I promise no love triangles will prevail…thanks for your review!!!

je suis une pizza - Yea, I can't stand it when there's more than one girl and each girl is paired off with a knight/warrior/ main heroes. I actually hate describing anything about the main girl, which is why I haven't even mentioned her color hair or eyes or anything. I actually like leaving that up to the reader. It's more fun.

Torque69- Thanks for the comment! I hope my next few chapters appeal to you J

Legolover- Perhaps a lancelot pairing is in store…still not sure if there will be a love story yet. I don't want this fic to be mary suish but everyone has their own ideas of what a mary sue is. Personally I don't think mine has been so far, but my mood may change. Thanks for the review!!! Enjoy!

I'm not sure of the events that took place over the next few days. I occasionally opened my eyes, but was too weak to fully comprehend my surroundings. I thought I was dying, but every time I awoke for a few moments, I was lying in a bed. Sometimes an attendant opened my mouth to let the cool water rush down my sore throat. My lower back writhed with pain. My thoughts slipped to recurring nightmares, with Germanius coming into my room, finishing me off. But that did not happen.

I believe I had been in the heart of Hadrian's Wall for three days. It was night when I awoke, feeling slightly better and fully understanding everything around me. One of the servants entered the room, bearing a bowl of soup. I attempted to sit up, finding it not as painful as before.

"Your safe here, my lady. My master has given up his quarters to you while he is away," the servant, a man in his middle ages commented.

I tried sipping the soup, but coughed immediately. "Who is your master?" I asked, my voice surprisingly hoarse.

"I am the servant to all the Knights of the Round, but this is Sir Lancelot's room. I was told you had already been acquainted." It took me a second to realize who this Lancelot was. Ah yes, I recalled. The curly haired man I saved. A new thought struck me.

"Where is the Bishop Germanius?" I bit my lower lip in worry. He had failed to kill me, and he probably knew I'd tell these knights of his horrible deeds of barbarianism.

The servant poured water into my cup. "He stays in Master Artorius' room. He's been anxious to see you, greatly saddened over his mistake. Sir Lancelot told me not to let him see you until he returned."

I gulped, scared for my life. "Where did Lancelot go?" I enquired, hoping it wouldn't be long. These knights needed to know the truth before…before anything happened to me.

The servant replied, "North of the Wall into Woad territory. The Bishop made them go on one final journey to rescue a Roman family."

"Marius…" I whispered to myself, though he overheard.

"That's right. How'd you know about him, eh?"

I was about to explain everything, but I held my tongue. Servants were known to serve more than one master. Gossips thrived among them. Germanius might have sent him here to test me. "I'm not sure. I must have overheard it while I was unconscious."

The servant raised an eyebrow, but spoke no more on the matter. He left after I had finished my soup. I sighed, laying back down on my bed. What was I to do now? My wound was healing, and I guessed I'd be riding in a week or so's time. But until then, I was a prisoner in the same building as a mad man who wanted me killed. I conspired various plots in my head until I could think no more, and sleep arrived as dawn broke.

The next day I attempted to try walking across the room, exploring Lancelot's things. During midday the servant came back, bearing more food and drink. He told me I was healing fast, and left soon after. An hour passed when someone else knocked at the door. I picked up one of Lancelot's small daggers on his table and climbed into bed.

The Bishop walked in, looking smug. He silently closed the door. I held the dagger behind my back, sitting up on the bed. He would make the first move. He stood a few feet away, looking around. I breathed heavily, unsure of his intentions. Would he kill me in broad daylight?

"You are a tough lady, Arria. Much like your father. Luckier than him, I suppose. I am afraid I am in a complex state of affairs. You see, I did not intend to let you live. But, since you are alive and these knights see you as…good, I am here to propose something for you."

My eyes narrowed. "What?"

He smiled devilishly, showing his yellowing teeth. "Keep your mouth shut about the deaths of your family, and I will let you live."

I was scared. I knew he was lying, he'd just kill me the moment he got me away from these walls. Somehow I got up enough courage to say, "You mean I can't tell them what a piece of shit you are? Oh pity. I suppose you will not try to kill me now, since its evident they'll know it was you."

Instead of getting angry, he smiled once more. "You are smarter than you look, it seems. These Sarmatian knights and their leader do not know who you are, where you come from, nor why you fought with those barbaric Picts. Who do you think they'd believe? A servant of God or a whore?" He drew a knife, and before I could move he held it up against my throat. He covered my mouth from screaming. My eyes widened in terror.

He whispered softly into my ear, "This is your last chance, Arria of the house of Gaius. You can do as I say, and perhaps live to see tomorrow, or die right now. Your choice." I breathed through my nose heavily, rage surrounding my thoughts. I still held the dagger, but knew it would be pointless to use it now, with a knife at my throat. I nodded my compliance, and he withdrew the knife.

"Good. Now, here's your story that you are to say…" I listened to his plan, scoffing at it but keeping a straight face. He explained how after they returned and I explained my background, I would accompany the Bishop back to Rome. He was mad if he thought I would really agree to this, knowing fully well that I would be killed once we left. However, this was my only choice for the moment. After explaining everything, he leaned in closer to me, smelling my neck.

"Once we return to Rome, there's no reason why you can't accompany me to my house. My bedroom is much grander than this. And maybe, just maybe, if you are as pleasurable in bed as you are to look at, you might live." His hand leaned forward towards my chest, and he softly licked my cheek with his disgusting tongue. I was frozen with anger, and I said nothing in reply. He chuckled a bit to himself, and exited the room.

I wiped my cheek with my hand, feeling much more gross than I had ever felt before. How dare he touch me, I told myself. I should have thrust my dagger right through his cold heart. He was no man of God, only a pig.

A few days past and the Bishop did not return. After a week of my captivity, I heard the gates open, and the Sarmatian knights emerge within the walls, bearing about fifty villagers with them. I watched from high above as the Bishop went to greet them with a smile.

"You are alive! Against all odds!" The Bishop replied with open arms. The knights looked solemn, none greeting the Bishop with happiness. I looked over to see a horse bearing a body, presumably one of their own. As papers of discharge were handed out, I watched as a burly knight threw his at the Bishop. Perhaps these knights can be allies, I thought to myself. They looked ready to pounce on this so called, 'man of God'. Surely the Bishop knew I would blab my story to them. He had to have something else up his sleeve.

The knights left, walking the horse that carried their dead friend, presumably to go bury him. It was then that I noticed Electo. My father had been one of Electo's mentors before he went to serve under the Pope. He had spent many a day in my home. He knew who I truly was. What would the Bishop do?

In response to my silent question, the Bishop gazed towards the window from which I watched. He gave me a slight smile before beckoning the family inside. I noted that Marius was not with them.

About a half hour later the Bishop entered my room again. "Spill one word, and the boy dies. Your father's wish was to see the boy arrive safely in Rome. If he doesn't, it will be on your hands. My guards will be with him twenty four hours. If I notice anything awry, I will signal them to kill him, and you as well. Think carefully. And do NOT let the boy see you." He turned to exit the door. It was now or never. I was only two feet away. Before he could open the door I angrily shoved Lancelot's small dagger into his back. He clung to the door as I yanked it off him. He turned around slowly, blood dripping off his mouth, and I sunk the dagger through his chest, his eyes widening in rage as I did so. He could not speak. Thoughts of my father and sisters rushed through my head, and I yanked the dagger free once more, and this time placed it inches from his neck.

"I do not care for the boy's life nor mine. I only want revenge," I whispered, then thrust the dagger through his throat, the tip of it coming out on the other side of his neck. He fell silently, his eyes open in surprise. I left the dagger in him.

You might be thinking that's the end of this story- with the silly Roman girl defeating the powerful Bishop. But it is not so.

I realized that he must have placed guards nearby. I needed to escape before they realized there lovely Bishop was dead and I was responsible. I looked around the room. There was no rope of any kind, nothing to get down out the window from. I was stuck.

"Bishop Germanius!" One of the guards said in a booming voice. A loud bang hit the door. They knew something was off. I wrenched loose the dagger and stood as far from the door as possible as the banging continued. I held it, shaking, knowing fully well I couldn't take on his guards. There was nothing else I could do. Soon the door had been knocked down, and three of the Roman guards stood for a moment, gasping at the Bishop's body, then looking towards me, my dagger drawn. They rushed towards me, blades drawn, eyes of fury.

I dodged the first swing with ease but was backing myself into a corner. A barely deflected a second blow with the tip of the dagger, and it fell from my grasp. I was now defenseless, with nowhere to go. They smirked in delight, advancing on me slowly.

"This one can't get far. Perhaps we should have a lil fun before we kill her." My eyes widened.

The second guard piped in, "She is a pretty lil thing. Such a waste, really."

I clenched my fist. "Your master is lying there, dead, you know. You might not want to slather your disgusting selves by his holy ass." A fresh slap from the third guard crossed my cheek, with such force that threw me off balance. I fell, my lower back aching.

"Bind her hands."

Soon a rope was tied with my hands behind my back. One of them pulled with my hair and dragged me over to the bed, where they picked me up and threw me on it.

They smirked. The burliest one of them came towards me first, ripped open my robe, revealing my chest. I screamed, and he smacked me across the face again. It was then that a loud booming voice shouted, "Stop this instant!". The guards turned, and on seeing who it was, backed off of me.

The leader, the one they called Arthur, along with Lancelot had their swords drawn in the direction of the guards.

The tallest guard spoke, "This whore murdered a man of God!"

Arthur drew closer toward him, his sword ready to kill. "And that justifies raping her?" The guard was silent. "Tristan, put these men in the gallows below. We'll decide what to do with them later." He looked down at the dead Bishop, then back up at me.

"Lancelot, take her to my room while I dispose of him. Unbind her but be careful." Lancelot nodded and picked me up, carrying me toward Arthur's room. I held my robe together, making sure nothing was revealed. I could not tell whether this Lancelot was happy or solemn about my murderous deed. He unbound my hands and got me a new robe to change into. He looked away as I changed, and it took me awhile to get into it, my wound still hurting.

"I see your wound is healing," he said, still looking away.

"Slowly. You can turn around now." I replied, unsure of what to do. He motioned towards the bed, and I lay with my back against the wall.

"I'll wait til Arthur gets hear to ask you everything. What is your name?" His intense eyes stared into mine, unsure of what to expect.

"Arria, daughter of Nicoteles of the Gaius house."

His eyes narrowed. "A Roman?" I nodded, staring back just as intensely.

Arthur entered soon after, looking at Lancelot. "Leave us." Lancelot looked surprised, but did as he was told. He took one last look at me before exiting, shutting the door behind him.

"You know who I am?" He questioned. I nodded. I repeated my name, and he looked taken aback. "I knew your father, Arria. He was a friend of my mentor Pelegius. Tell me, how is it that a Roman girl attacks with Woads and then kills a Roman Bishop?" My mouth opened slightly as I looked down. This Arthur looked curious rather than angered, and his voice was not one of contempt.

I gulped. "My family was sent to Britain with that sorry excuse of a man you see bleeding down the hall. We were sent here to tell you about Marius and his son. Along the way the Bishop killed my family and I escaped. I was captured by these Woads, as you call them, and their leader told me the only way I would live is if I fought the Bishop and his men along with them. I wanted vengeance, and I willingly agreed. The Woads wanted me dead, the Romans wanted me dead. I believe you saw the rest." I looked up, expecting to see his sword drawn. He only looked confused, his soft eyes questioning.

"Why would the Bishop want you dead? Why did he kill your family?"

"Because my father and Pelegius were speaking out against the Church in his mind. He wanted to get rid of us without letting the Pope know it was him."

"And he had Pelegius killed." realization dawned on him, and I saw his fists clench with anger. "And he prevented the freedom of one of my men." His eyes began to swell, his voice hoarse. It looked like I was not the only one wanting vengeance on the Bishop. His face calmed, and he turned back to me.

"Lady Arria, you have done Rome a great…deed, in wiping it of its evils. How's your wound?"

"Healing. Forgive me, sir, but what is to become of me?" I asked, frightened. I was no longer scared of the Bishop, but could I return to Rome knowing evils lay around every corner with no family to find solace with? I was alone.

He seemed to understand. "You may stay here as long as you like. Please, get some rest. We'll talk more later." He placed his hand on top of mine and gave it a squeeze for comfort. He trusted me.

A few moments later, a familiar face entered. "Electo!" I shouted, walking slowly to meet him. He embraced me in a hug, and we sat down on the bed.

"I was told what horrors you went through, Arria. I had no idea. Please, believe me that when we return to Rome you will be safe. The Pope will make sure of that."

Memories flooded back to when Electo and I played games before he went off to study with father. He was three years my younger, though even when we were little his mouth was always the wiser.

I shook my head. "I cannot go back, Electo. There is nothing for me there. Only pain of what once was…" I drifted off, not knowing what else to say. He nodded.

"You have been through a lot. We can discuss this later, when you are healed and well rested. We leave tomorrow, before the Saxons come."

"The Saxons?" I asked.

He blinked, then remembered. "The Saxons tried to kill my family and people. The knights defeated a part of their army, but they are on their way here as we speak. Rome is giving up this land to them, so we must leave. I'll wake you at dawn." He kissed my forehead, and without another word, exited to his own room. I sat their alone, taking everything in.

Hours past and darkness came, and with it came the Saxons. I went out on the wall with everyone else, looking across to see thousands of soldiers armed to the teeth. Lancelot came up behind me. "Please, follow me." He said, unnerved by something. I had seen him argue with Arthur just moments ago, his face sweating.

He led me back to his room, opening the door. The body of the Bishop was no longer there, and no traces of his blood appeared on the door or floor.

"Arthur told me everything." He began. I opened my mouth, but found there was nothing to say. He continued. "Why would a Roman girl save a Sarmatian knight?" he questioned. "After, it happened, I couldn't get your face out of my head. I couldn't see how a girl who attacked with Woads would care to spare a Sarmatian who means nothing."

"My fight was not with you, Sir Lancelot. I was out to get my vengeance, and the Woads didn't want me alive either. You had done nothing against me, and the Bible teaches love."

His eyebrows were raised. "Ahh. And does not your god also teach forgiveness and thou shalt not kill? Yet you killed for vengeance, my dear." His statement made me gasp in surprise. Once he said it though, he looked like he wanted to take it back.

I sighed and looked out the window into the starry night. "My God does teach that. But it is a little hard to think clearly when you see your family murdered before your very eyes and the same murderer go after you. I suppose you couldn't understand." A hand touched my shoulder, and I looked back.

Lancelot stared intently on me with pity. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to offend you. You have accomplished what I wanted. Bishop Germanius prevented my freedom, and sent one of my comrades to his death. You did what I could not." He looked out the window with me.

"Thank you for saving my life. I am in your debt, my lady." I did not look at him, only outside, where a thousand Saxons sat.


	3. Battle for Hadrian's Wall

Thanks once more for all your reviews…its what keeps me writing. Without further rantings, enjoy!

Oh yea: Disclaimer: I don't own King Arthur, but I did create Arria and her family

Chapter 3

"Sir Lancelot.." I began, unsure of what I wanted to ask him. "Tell me about your home. Sarmatia." Honestly, the man looked so solemn. I congratulated myself, for it was at that moment that I first saw him smile. Domitia would have loved that smile.

"Home," he said, his eyes not glancing on anything in particular. "A land where the sun rises high and beams down it's light; hardly ever a misty day such as here. No, the sun in Sarmatia is its own castle, hugely deceiving to our eyes. The seasons change four times a year…there are no endless cloudy days such as on this god forsaken island. The horses there are stronger and faster, far more beautiful and mysterious." I closed my eyes, trying to envision it. He went on, his voice in a dreamy state, as if he were back in Sarmatia right now. "There are no masters and servants, only family. In Sarmatia, you are free. Why is it you ask?" He turned back to me now, amused.

"It just seemed like you needed a reminder of something that pleased you," I stated. He took in my words for a moment, then smirked in understanding.

"I am content, Lady Arria, for tomorrow I go home." I gazed at him, a bit confused. I glanced out the window.

"Excuse me for being blunt, but perhaps you don't see the thousand Saxon troops outside your front door?"

He scoffed. "They are not my problem. And apparently not Rome's either."

My eyes narrowed. "Yet does not your friend Arthur stay? Alone?"

On these words he rolled his eyes and headed towards the door. "We all choose our own destiny. He seems to think his lies here. I want home." With these few words he left, shutting his door behind him, leaving me absolutely bewildered.

Electo awoke me at dawn, begging me to come with him. Since I had nothing to pack, I went down to the stables where one of the stable boys presented me with a horse. The villagers were starting to move out, and the Sarmatian knights mounted their horses, Lancelot among them. He gave me a quick nod before kicking his horse forward. I looked towards the fields, where Woads began to set fires, filling the air with smoke so thick you couldn't see. Outside the wall I could hear the Saxons stirring, preparing for war. The leader, the Roman man named Arthur sat on his steed on top of the hill, gazing at the enemy.

He fights for something that will never be, I decided. An inner voice within me cried, "My father fought for his beliefs and died because no one had the courage to think it could succeed." I looked over towards the Sarmatians. They fought for a country not of their own, and now flee their leader is his hour of greatest need. Perhaps my father's vision of equality and justice could not reach Rome…but with a leader like Arthur, maybe a new country could be founded on these ideals.

I had no home. Rome was crumbling from within. Perhaps…perhaps I could start a new one, carrying on my father's wishes in a land that would not pursue corruption. It was these thoughts that revolutionized my soul. My path in life. I urged my horse forward, ahead of Electo and a few villagers, towards Lancelot and his friends.

"Wait!" I shouted, catching up. The one called Tristan and Lancelot turned around, surprised and confused.

"Lancelot!" I turned my horse left, right in the knight's way, causing him to stop. His comrades stopped as well.

"What are you doing?" He asked, perplexed.

I gulped. "Why do you turn your back on your commander? Don't you see that he needs you? All of you?"

A burly, bald headed man rolled his eyes. "Please, girl, step aside. We served Rome for 15 hard years. We deserve to go home."

I cut in. "And by aiding Arthur, that is not serving your enemy but helping your friend. Honestly, would he not give his life for you?"

Lancelot chimed in. "That's enough! I told you last night all about my homeland. Arthur has his own destiny to pursue, even if it is a foolish one. I am a free man now, bound to no master."

I looked up at him, eyes widening. "Yet it was you that said 'There are no masters and servants, only family'. Well, Sir Lancelot, I would think that after fifteen years, you would call Arthur family. All of you." I stared at each one. "My father died fighting for equality and justice for all men. So does your commander. And so do I." I kicked my horse back towards Hadrian's Wall, with Electo screaming at me to come back.

I galloped onto the hill where Arthur stood, deep in thought. "Arria?" He asked. I smiled.

"You knew what my father Nicoteles and Pelegius wanted. You can make it happen, Arthur. Someone has to stand behind you." He opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it. He looked at me with new respect, and bowed his head slightly.

"Nicoteles schooled you in private, did he not?" I laughed.

"Yes sir."

He shook his head in wonder. "We need more souls like yours, Lady Arria. If you were born a man, you would make a fine general."

"That's what my father said." As I spoke, I saw five warriors galloping their horses toward us. I smiled in spite of myself. My speech had apparently worked.

"Lancelot?" Arthur questioned, confused. His friend smirked in response, and Arthur gazed towards the others, whom were introduced to me as Tristan, Bors, Galahad, and Gawain.

Soon Arthur led us down the hill towards the burning stacks. Lancelot rode beside me. "You have a way with words, milady."

"Even the voice of reason needs to step aside every once and awhile and take a chance." He sighed, smiling as he did so. Arthur gave out the orders, and he saved me for last.

"I take it you want to fight," he stated, looking me over.

I cracked a slight smile. "I may not be the best swordswoman, or even a hand to hand combat fighter…but I can shoot a bow pretty straight." He sniffed.

"Archer it is. The best position for a girl still wounded. Good luck, milady."

"Same to you." With that he bowed his head and kicked his horse forward, his eyes glancing toward a Woad girl not far from me…Guinevere they called her. She glanced back at him, winking. Hmm, I thought. Wonder what's going on between those two. But my thoughts could not stay on that subject long, for the Saxons were beginning their attack. I rode along the edge of a treeline, then dismounted, as someone handed me a bow and arrows. Looking left, I saw the Pict leader that had spared my life. He gave me a quick nod of approval before gazing back on the oncoming attack. The Saxons seemed confused, no doubt blinded by the surrounding smoke that enveloped them. The Sarmatian knights charged forward, slashing anyone they could get at, before retreating through the smoke. My father taught me this ancient Roman trick a few years ago. A smart battle tactic to confuse soldiers, making them break away from their commanders and start shooting at anything moving.

One of the Picts beside me raised his bow, and I realized we were about to fire. I aimed high, trying to get the depth right. As others around me let loose their arrows, so did I, and I watched as about one hundred flew high into the thick sky, then landing about two hundred yards away. Screams emerged from heir army, as some men put up their shields. Others were not as lucky.

As fire emerged to divide the army in half, Guinevere raised her sword, signaling our attack. I mounted my horse, taking with me a few extra arrows. My dagger was shoveled into a latch by my left heel. I was nervous, looking out as the knights battled the war hungry Saxons. These were seasoned fighters, and I had only learned a few dodging tricks from Leon. The bow was practically useless in close range fighting, but it was my only hope of staying alive and protecting others at the same time.

As the Woad warriors emerged from the edge of the forest, yelling out their battle cry, I urged my horse forward towards the onslaught. Before coming face to face with any Saxons, I stopped. Holding my bow in my right hand and picking an arrow with my left, I aimed at the Saxon nearest me. He fell quickly, blood pouring from his head. My heart raced, and I scanned the battle, looking for those in need of help. I galloped my horse farther down the right wing. One of the Woad girls was being attacked by two burly Saxons. I let loose two more arrows, both finding their mark. She gave me a quick nod of thanks and moved on to her next victim. I looked back to see a Saxon warrior coming towards me, his axe raised above his head. I kicked the mare left and dismounted quickly, on the outskirts of the battle.

He swung high, and I ducked down, barely missing my head getting chopped off. I unhooked the dagger from my left heel, and while I was kneeling, I rolled to the right and plunged it through his chest. My energy was wearing, and I quickly mounted up again, still moving right along the edge of the fights. It was then that I noticed him. The bald headed boy was lunging at him, his face full of rage. Lancelot easily dodged his swings, his ambidextrous arms moving both swords in for the kill, his curly hair bouncing in front of his sweaty face. The young Saxon was full of energy and matched every blow Lancelot threw at him. More Saxons were coming to their commander's aid, trying to take on Lancelot as well. Even in the midst of battle, the knight smirked his superiority.

I raised my bow as Lancelot turned his back on the young Saxon to battle two huge soldiers. The boy was trudging along the ground, looking for something. My eyes froze in horro when I saw him stand up with a crossbow. As he aimed towards his target, I let loose my own.

Lancelot turned around, his eyes in shock. The bald headed Saxon dropped the crossbow, blood seething from his lips, his eyes narrowing in frustration. My arrow protruded from his chest. The boy spit out the blood, reaching once more for his weapon. Lancelot drove the sword on his right into his stomach. Breathing heavily, he looked left towards where I stood, my bow drawn. That same devilish smirk appeared once more, and I found myself smiling. Still, other fights persisted, and I continued on. The field was stained in blood, littered with bodies of Woad and Saxon alike. Every time I released a new arrow, I cringed as I felt the pierce of it inside another human's flesh. I was not used to such barbaric tendencies. What warfare I knew from books glamorized it, making it appealing to the public to have victory over an enemy.

Rome was defined in its glory, its victory, its superiority over others. These Saxons believed they had the power to take whatever they wanted. It seemed it did not matter what continent I came across; there would always be a lust for power.

The battle was dying. Only a few fights remained, and they were quickly suppressed. I was exhausted, though lucky to be alive. I said a quick silent prayer to God, thanking Him for my safety, and trotted towards the middle of the field, where the knights were gathering.

I dismounted as Arthur fell to his knees, watching as the knight Bors brought the dead body of Tristan over to their commander. All were covered in blood, limping with various wounds, all faces solemn for their fallen friend. The Woad Guinevere stared at Arthur in understanding.

"Knights I have failed you.." Arthur began, angered that he was the cause of his friend's death. I looked down, feeling saddened, not sure of what to do.

Soon we broke up, with Galahad and Gawain leaning on each other for support, Bors not taking help from anyone. Lancelot, I noticed, was grasping his side, wincing in pain. I put a hand on his shoulder, and he stared at me, his face stricken. I didn't know whether he blamed me for making them go back, or the Saxon leader. Or perhaps he was angry at Arthur, or fate, or God. I could not tell, but he put one arm on my shoulder, letting me help him back in silence. I looked back towards the field. Arthur sat silently by the body of his friend, with Guinevere taking his hand into hers for comfort.

I helped him into his bed, getting cloths and hot water to attend to his wound. He said nothing, he only stared with his big brown eyes against the wall. I took off his armor piece by piece, including his cloth shirt. He was very built, with scars of old and new covering his back and front. The slash to his side was not deep, but still needed to be dealt with.

"This may hurt.." I began to say, taking the bottle of alcohol into my hand.

"Just do it-" He cut in. I bit my lower lip, spreading the alcohol, cleaning the wound with a cloth. Still he continued to stare at the wall, used to such pain. After it was cleaned, I closed it up, stitching along the slash, which was about six inches long.

Just as I finished, I had him lie flat on his back. He would not look at me. "You saved my life again," he stated. I didn't know how to reply.

I gave him a quick squeeze of the hand. "Rest, Sir knight. Dream of home." With this statement he took his gaze off the wall and stared into my bloodied face and mangy hair. I gave him a slight closed mouth smile to reassure him, and closed the door behind me. I stood against the door for a moment, taking in everything that had occurred that day. I had gotten my revenge on the Bishop. The Saxons were defeated. What was my plan now?


	4. Remember

Misguided Roses chapter 4...a little shorter than normal. I'm not going to post another chap til I get 20 reviews, so as to know this story is ok, haha. Thanks for those of you who have reviewed so far!!!!

I couldn't sleep. Biting my nails vivaciously, I shook my head violently, desperately wanting the day's events to leave my head. It seemed the color red was the only thing I could see. Was this all the world cared about?

Getting out of bed and putting on lavender colored robe, I headed down to the stables. Selecting a young, chocolate mare, I set out toward the hill, across the field of bodies being burned well into the night. Down to the tree line I stopped, by the cemetery where all of Arthur's fallen knights slept in peace.

Dismounting, I noticed I wasn't alone. Drawing my small blade, I looked towards the shadow. "Come slowly", I commanded, my tone slightly nervous.

I lit one of the torches nearby, and sighed in relief as the Lady Guinevere approached. "Couldn't sleep I take it?" she began, her eyes warm.

I simply nodded. "I don't know how anyone can, after that." I pointed with my left hand towards the field, where smoke rose in the black sky.

Guinevere sighed and placed a hand on the my shoulder. "You didn't have to stay, but Arthur told me you believed in freedom for all. That was very noble of you to do. My people thank you." I looked down, a little embarrassed. Guinevere continued. "You fight well. I was told Roman ladies aren't allowed to carry weapons and other nonsense."

The Roman nature in me laughed. "Tis true. A friend of the family, Leon…he taught me and my sisters a few tricks, to protect ourselves."

"A smart man. Your Roman ways baffle me. A patriarchal society? There's bound to be bloodshed…" Guinevere stopped, looking out unto Badon Hill. "Many of my men and women died today, fighting for their home. Where is your home, Arria?"

It was a question I could not answer, and Guinevere did not push the matter. Instead, she drew out her dagger.

"Show me what you can do," she began, getting in a defensive stance. I gave her a perplexed stare, but did as she was told. I attacked, knowing the Woad could protect herself. Sure enough, Guinevere dodged every blow with ease. After a few more moves, Guinevere put up her hand.

"I forgot how tired I was. Not bad…but you need to learn more." Arria shook her head.

"I never want to kill again. Too much blood has been spilled. I want to teach of peace and love, not warfare tactics", I pleaded, wishing the girl would understand.

The Woad put away her weapon and smiled. "All humans should learn how to protect themselves, Arria. In this world, it is the only way to survive." Enlightened, the I sighed heavily, suddenly feeling exhausted. "In the morning comes the beginnings of a new world. The ideals you value will be put into place. Rome is crumbling from within, you know this. On this land, we could use a smart female like you to make sure these notions of equality and freedom stay. Merlin said that Arthur will unite both our clans together. Look out, see how we've already conquered tyranny and oppression."

It was all true. Rome was in the past, as was my family. "Everything I've loved has been sacrificed for this cause. God must will it so. I suppose I can try to find my purpose here, in Britain." Guinevere smiled brightly, hugging her new friend.

"With you on our side we our unstoppable!"

I couldn't help but smile slightly, in spite of her sadness. "It's getting late. Arthur needs you now." The Woad's eyes widened, and she ducked her head in embarrassment. I laughed quietly. "You are both lucky to have one another. Two perfectly great minds."

Both of us mounted their horses and headed back towards the fortress, but not before I had said a silent prayer to all that had fallen in service to Rome in the sad little cemetery.

I now found sleep easily within grasp, and it wasn't until the sun rose high in the sky the next day that I awoke, all my muscles in agony. Walking down the stairs, I heard all the other knights sitting at their round table, discussing something quietly. I had thrown on a light blue robe that was hanging on my door. I had my hair up in a typical Roman bun, with a few hairs squiggly rolling down the sides of my cheek.

The stood up as I entered, eyeing the round table with wonder. All gave me a nod of approval as I past each of them, and I sat between Guinevere and Lancelot as the others took their seats. Merlin was also present, along with a few Woad warriors I had seen the day before.

Looking down, I noticed Guinevere had her hand in Arthur's, and I smiled. Merlin began to speak.

"Arthur has proven himself a strong and capable leader. He can unite this land and protect it from invaders like the Saxons. It is time the island of Britain named a king, to rule and protect all within its walls. Arthur is to be that king."

I looked around, noticing the remaining Sarmatian knights nod their agreement. Arthur looked down at the table, deep in thought. Guinevere stared at him, her eyes sparkling.

After a moment, Arthur stood. "Pelegius taught me that all men are created equal, and as such should be allowed freedom of all kinds. Now that Rome has tossed these ideas aside, it seems this place is the only way to keep his values alive." He turned. "I can only do this with you at my side." Guinevere smiled brightly, and nodded.

The Sarmatian knights glanced at each other, all asking the same questions inwardly. Now that they had their discharge papers, where would they go? Word had reached that Sarmatia was in the midst of its own war against the Huns, and loosing badly. Soon they would be outcasts in their own homes.

The meeting broke soon after, and I caught up with Lancelot. "How's your wound?" I asked.

He turned to face me. "I'll live." He didn't continue, and I shifted my eyes left and right, a bit confused. I had heard that Lancelot was quite the charmer and trickster normally. Now that the battle was over, I had hoped his spirit would return. It seemed I was mistaken.

He sighed heavily and began cleaning his swords with his various chemicals. "Will you stay here, now that your family is gone and Rome is no longer safe?"

"That has been on my mind for the past day or so. After talking to Guinevere last night-"

"Oh, so it was you that rode towards the cemetery. I saw someone leave on my horse last night." I blushed. Oops, I had no idea it was his horse. A glint of a smirk appeared at the corner of his eye.

"Beautiful creature. But to answer your question, I believe God wants me here now, to what purpose I know not. Guinevere seems to think there is of great use for me, but I have yet to see it. And you, sir knight? Back to your Sarmatia?" I said, smiling, hoping to bring out his softer side once more. Instead his face grew cold and withdrawn.

"Yesterday we received word that Sarmatia will soon be no more, with the powerful Hun moving in." He stopped his wiping and clenched his fist in frustration. "By the time I reach it, there won't be a home left to welcome me. So you see, you and I are much alike. No place to go."

"Maybe-" I began, trying to think of some solution, but none came.

He cut me off. "It will take months to finally reach home. My people are nomads…it would take an even longer time to locate my family, if they are even alive. Gawain, Galahad and I discussed every possible route to home. Even our warrior status will not protect us. The Hun will run us down like dogs, and this is a battle we cannot win." He took a large breath, then continued. "I am weary of bloodshed, much like you. And Arthur needs me now. Thus, I have also decided to stay, Galahad, Gawain, and Bors as well." He gave me a polite smile, then returned to wiping his blades clean of the many lives he had ended yesterday. He wanted me to leave. Strangely enough, I found I couldn't.

"Lancelot…you are angry, as am I. But view this as a new life, a new start as a free man. You are bound to no man. One day you will return to your beloved Sarmatia, even if it is only in dreams. But until then, do not be bitter on this island. Who knows…perhaps now that you are free, you will notice the beauty of this place." Nervously, I bent down next to his chair where he sat, and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Brushing my hair out of my face, I opened the door and shut it behind me. Alone he sat, like stone, his face staring forward, his cleaning ceasing. I leaned against his wall, sighing and rubbing my fingers through my locks of hair. Somehow that boy always left me unnerved and jittery. Still leaning against the wall, I heard footsteps coming. Suddenly his door swung open and down I fell, hitting my head against the floor and letting out a "Ooomph!" cry. He stared down at me like I was the strangest person alive, and helped me up with a smirk.

"Oops", was the most witty remark I could muster, and I saw him laugh with delight.

"Honestly Arria, you do know how to put me in a good mood."

Rubbing my head, I sat down on his chair to clear my conscious. "Yeah, that's probably why Guinevere wants me to stay. I have the tendency to be quite the clumsy court jester."

What a bloody idiot I was. Domitia would have fainted if she had seen. "You cannot possibly have an ounce of feminine etiquette in you" she would say.

"Well, you may have to fight Bors for that title…" he began, his eyes devilishly sneering towards me. I bore the same sneer back, jestingly. Turning to leave with, hopefully, with a little bit of dignity, I opened the door once more, but his hand pushed it back. I turned around and immediately found his lips on mine, his arms wrapping around my back. I closed my eyes, totally immersed and confused and giddy all at once. The charmers had a way of doing that to you, spiraling your emotions until they were so twisted they formed one big, nonsensical sensation that lashes out in the form of a kiss. It seemed like hours before we broke, both breathing heavily. He grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed my neck, my shoulder, my ear. He was quite good at this, I decided, my eyes closed and mouth open, exhaling. Opening my eyes once more, I felt his hand go on my cheek, the fingers caressing my face. He stared deep into me, almost as if he was looking into my very soul. Goodness I'm vulnerable, I realized. He gently leaned down on the bed, with me below him.

I finally broke the spell that bound me to him when he started to undo the ties that held up my robe.

"Lancelot.." I began, seeming foolish but stern.

"What?" he asked in a dreamy state, not sensing my seriousness. I sighed.

"I can't…I've never.."

He grinned. "A Roman virgin are we? Don't worry. Sarmatians are known for their skills in the battlefield and in the bed." He had no clue.

"That's nice…um….you see…" This was very difficult. "I can't…umm…my religion looks down on these acts."

He snapped out of his dreamy state and stared. "You mean you won't make love until your married?"

"Um…well…..yes. To put it bluntly."

"And is this your God's law, or Romes?"

"God's. And mine. Never Rome's."

He sighed and took his hand off my chest and sat up. "I see." We both said nothing, the sexual tension rising.

I sat up and rested my head on his shoulder. He did not resist, but exhaled loudly, clearing his throat as he did so. I licked my lips.

"Where do we go from here?" I courageously asked. I was new at this game, unsure of if he wanted a one night stand or something more. Knowing Lancelot from what his peers have said, he takes a new girl to bed every evening. He was used to this.

I was both surprised and excited when he faced me and gave me another kiss, though it was more so filled with sincerity than passion. I didn't argue.


	5. Lost and Found

Long awaited chapter 5...aww…I like this chapter…haha. Thanks for al the great reviews! You guys are awesome! Enjoy!

_"Tell the one about the handsome Sarmatian who rescues the Egyptian princess.." Marciana exclaimed, jumping onto father's magnificent bed. I myself cuddled under its silk red covers next to Marciana. Domitia followed and sat on father's left side, as the middle aged quite handsome man laughed._

_"I've told that one far too many times…" he began, scratching his small beard. A then fourteen year old Marciana looked saddened._

_"No! Tell of the story of the Trojan prince and Spartan queen who ran off together and started the greatest war..", twelve year old Domitia said, squealing in delight. It was her favorite story. I found myself rolling my eyes._

_"Father, please, the one with the Roman general who became a slave and a gladiator and defeated the emperor is the most exciting! Tell us that one!" My ten year old self begged, my smile huge._

_My father laughed again with merry glee. "Arria I believe you just summed up the entire story. No, my dears, I believe a new one is in order for tonight." My sisters and I glanced at each other, excited. Father was rarely home in those days for more than a few weeks at a time. He was both a Senator and a diplomat for the western regions of the Roman Empire. He was often sent on voyages to Gaul and the British Isles, and every time he brought back his girls gifts and stories of those native lands._

_He had just returned from Britain, visiting the family friend Pelagius. But before he began his tale, he beckoned to one of the servants, who brought forth our gifts._

_To Marciana, he gave her a rather embellished sea blue robe, sequenced with various jewels around the neckline. "From the finest craftsmen in Gaul", he said, pleased with her expression. To Domitia, he handed her a lavish ruby necklace from Spain. "Worn by a Spanish princess", he claimed, giving me a wink. Domitia's eyes twinkled with delight, and she wore it for years to come._

_Finally, everyone looked to me, and I bit my lower lip with anticipation. Father presented me with a box, and I opened it frantically, as any ten year old would, my coffee brown hair falling into my face. My eyes widened, and I gave him the greatest hug I could possibly give, his laughter ringing in my ears._

_"Well, what is it?" Domitia asked with anticipation. I took the gift out of the box and proudly showed my sisters._

_"A book", I simply stated._

_Marciana's face fell a little. She pushed back her auburn hair and smirked. "What kind of book?"_

_"A diary actually. With a Sarmatian symbol embalmed into the leather binding." I pressed my fingers against the lines around the horse symbol, into the creases of the words dug in around the horse._

_"Yes, I had a short visit in Sarmatia, at one of the Roman outposts. One of the villagers made it for me." Father stated, obviously proud of himself._

_"So a blank book?" Domitia said. I looked at father, and he smiled at me. I knew my sisters would never understand, we were too much alike. But I thought my gift was by far the best._

_After father told us one of the British legends, Domitia and Marciana went off to their own rooms to get ready for bed and admire their gifts. I held back, wanting to thank father once more._

_He shut the door behind them. "Father, could you please tell me what these markings mean?" I asked, referring to the letters surrounding the horse. He nodded, and pointed at each word._

_"It says: 'Truth, justice, and love.' The code of the Sarmatians." I mouthed a quiet 'wow' and looked up at him. "Arria, I did not want to tell your sisters, but I got you another gift."_

_My eyes widened with glee. Domitia and Marciana would be insanely jealous if they knew I got more presents from father…He lit a torch and took me down the stairs, toward the small library. On his desk, next to his quill was another box. His eyes narrowed with mischief, his delight as much apparent as mine._

_"I did not want your sisters to see, because it does give off…how you say…an unladylike ere. Don't just stand there gawking, girl, go ahead and open it", he commanded with the same mischievous grin._

_I seriously never knew a time where my eyes could have been more pulled from their sockets. Carefully I picked it up, infatuated immediately. It was a real dagger, bearing the same Sarmatian markings as my diary on the part of the blade nearest the handle. It was simple, with no decorative embellishments or intricate cuts. "Veritas, Aequitas, Amore" I repeated in Latin, referring to the Sarmatian code perfectly legible on the blade._

_"Father…" I began, but no words came out of my mouth. I believe he saw this as a good sign._

_"Keep it close, but out of sight. Do not tell your sisters, I see the way they treat you differently already. You have a scholar's mind, a lover's heart, and a warrior's spirit, Arria. Always let these words of truth, justice, and love speak for your choices you make in life." I hugged him tight, never wanting to let go. He squeezed back, his breathing harder than normal. We were more alike than Domitia and Marciana realized, father and I._

Nine years later, I awoke from this very memory, and walked over to my bag, taking the dagger Leon had given me right before "it" happened. I walked back over to the bed and sat down, sighing. I suddenly remembered that the Sarmatian dagger father had given me was probably still in the carriage my sisters and I rode in. It was lost to me forever. I held this dagger to my lips and kissed the handle, closing my eyes, my father's face once more appearing before me.

Beside me I felt him stir. He coughed for a second, and rubbed his eyes. Looking on him, I smiled. The night before we had passionately kissed for what seemed like hours, and we both fell asleep in each others arms. Several times in the night I felt him stroke my hair or rub my stomach, but, surprisingly, he hadn't tried anything else. "Perhaps I'm rubbing off on his devilish charm and turning him into a gentleman.." I wondered.

He stretched and looked over at me. "Are you sure you won't make love to the most handsomest man alive before marriage?" were the first words out of his mouth. Never mind what I said earlier about the gentleman part. I gave him a look and laid back down to kiss him one more time, placing the dagger at the foot of the bed.

"Sorry, sir knight. But you are not the handsomest man alive.." I began, mischievously grinning.

"Mmmm, but most definitely the handsomest Sarmatian knight?" he enquired, kissing me back.

I let our lips part. "Perhaps…although I might want to spend more time with Galahad to be sure…" To this he wrestled me up with him now on top and I below, his hands grabbing my wrists as I squealed, trying to contain my laughter.

"Fine, fine, you win.." I exclaimed, and he let go of me. I laughed some more as he got up, stretching his back. He turned to face me once more, but his eyes fell on the dagger by the bed. He picked it up, looking it over.

"And why, dear lady, are you playing with daggers at dawn?" His roguish brown eyes asked.

I sat up on the bed and sighed. "Just reminiscing…"

"About…"

"My father once gave me a dagger an I meant a lot to me…I lost it in the carriage when the Bishop betrayed us. Its all I have left of him." I did not look at Lancelot, for fear that he would see how troubled I was over this when more pressing matters were at hand.

His eyes narrowed in thought. "What exactly did it look like?"

I smiled, closing my eyes. "My father actually visited Sarmatia, and gave me a dagger bearing the symbol of the horse. It was engraved, with the words-"

He cut me off, and we both exclaimed together, "Truth, Justice, and Love". I sat there, my mouth open in surprise, my head tilting in wonder.

He continued on. "The code of the Sarmatian knights. Your father must have visited the village of Hescareth, a southern province. It is in this province that the very best Sarmatian blacksmith forges the very best Sarmatian weapons, bearing that symbol." I was astounding at hearing this. "They are by far the best weapons you will ever come across." His own eyes drifted back in time. "My father took me there when I was eleven. Lucas was his name. On hearing that I was one of the descendants that had to serve the Roman Empire, he forged me two great swords." I looked over to his left, seeing the famous blades he used in battle.

"He knew you could use both?" I asked, enthralled.

Lancelot laughed. "Not at all. I could barely swing one blade accurately at that age. But because I had been given such a great gift, I made myself work twice as hard to wield both, and wield both well."

"And you've accomplished this." I put in.

"I'm alive still, at least", he said, shrugging his shoulders. He came in front of me and knelt to my level, looking into my eyes. He pushed back a few of my hairs behind my ear, and kept his left hand on my cheek, his mouth open in awe. "And I'm only alive because a foolish girl decided to save me…twice…in fact." I stared back just as intensely at him, my eyes dancing. His charisma was legendary gossip at Hadrian's Wall, and I was beginning to agree. Giving me one final kiss, we parted, and I left to go to my own quarters to get changed. Arthur had requested an early meeting that morning, concerning new affairs and government changes. Much work needed to be done, and I desperately tired to rub off the smile that was plastered on my face. Going along the corridor, I passed Gawain as he left his room, shutting the door. Upon seeing me, and then looking at the door from which I came, his eyes widened, and he said nothing. He simply walked past me, shaking his head and humming to himself.

"ughh" I said, not wanting rumors of being Lancelot's new bedroom girl. Upon entering my quarters I saw that a new robe awaited me on my bed, the color a deep, rich purple, with gold ribbons to lace it up. I put up my hair once more in the same Roman bun, as was fashion, and walked back down to the round table.

Galahad, Arthur, and Bors were already there. Jols was putting out goblets as a servant boy filled each cup. I decided to sit next to Galahad and Bors. Guinevere, Lancelot, and Gawain entered shortly thereafter, and the meeting began.

"My lord, Merlin sends his condolences but cannot attend today due to a flooding crisis in the north. I will speak for him", Guinevere stated assuredly, and the King simply nodded, though I did see a slight twinkle in his eyes.

"Knights, Lady Guinevere, Lady Arria;" he began. "Now that I have united all together, it is time to charter up a new order." I sat up straighter, itching to know of his plans. "All my people have the right to free will, and as such all slavery and serfdom in this kingdom is hereby abolished." To my right, Jols was writing everything down on a large scroll. Everyone nodded their agreement. He went on. "Yes, we are imposing a new monarchy on this island to create order, but it is my wish that hopefully in my lifetime a republic will be instituted…" and so on he went, naming various people to be lords over such and such a land…all the while assuring that there will be a group, the "King's Riders", that goes from province to province to make sure the ideals of liberty are upheld and that serfdom does not continue. He took a break after announcing Hadrian's Wall to be knocked down. "To ensure equality between Woad and Britains." I heard a slight snoring beside me, and looked over to see Bors dead asleep, his head tilted to the side with his eyes closed. I was not the only one who noticed.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "There is much more to be done, but let us break for lunch, before the snorings get louder." All of us laughed, and two servants proceeded to bring forth food to the table. On smelling sausage, Bors jerked forward and opened his eyes.

After a good hearty meal, Arthur told us to meet back at sundown, to discuss a potential army and the positions of the knights. I watched as Lancelot got up and began discussing something with Arthur. Strangely enough, when Lancelot began talking, Arthur glanced my way.

"Quite a bore this stuff is.." Bors began, heading back to his quarters to rest a bit. Lancelot caught up with me as I was about to enter the stables. A ride would do me good, I thought to myself.

"Arria!" he said, walking swiftly towards me. I turned and smiled.

"Care for a ride, sir knight?" I asked.

He shook his head and took my hand. "No. Come, I must show you something." I wrinkled my eyebrows in confusion, but followed him nonetheless. He took me down stairs and beyond various corridors to a part of the fortress I had never been to. Lighting a torch, he proceeding forward, his eyes once again mischievous.

"Lancelot, honestly, what is this all about?" I enquired, curiosity getting the better of me. He stopped soon after, and placed the torch into a handle on the wall.

I stared forward in wonder at the sight before me. We were most definitely in the prized armory. Shields of Romans, Woads, and Sarmatians lined the walls, with various armors standing beside them. Swords from all over the world protruded from the walls, some small and thin, others long and scary looking. Towards the end of the corridor I saw Tristan's sword newly instated, its blade curvy and unlike anything I've ever seen. He grabbed me once more and brought me to the end of the armory, where on a stone column sat various daggers of all shapes and sizes. Some were jagged while others smooth. Then my eyes fell upon one. It was of medium size, about a foot long, with a simple handle. But nearest the handle on the blade was markings. Some of it was etched out from years of battle, but one could still make out the horse and words surrounding.

My mouth fell open, my hands eagerly wanting to touch. I looked at him with the most deepest surprise, and he grinned devilishly.

"Pick it up" he commanded. He needn't tell me twice. I carefully wrapped my fingers around the handle, feeling the sharpness of the blade with my index finger. It was a little heavier than mine.

"Lancelot.." I started to say, but no words came to mind. It was the closest thing to seeing my father again, as crazy as it sounded. I began to put it back down when his hand grabbed my arm.

"No" he stated. "Its yours." As if my eyes could get any wider.

"But…"

He cut me off. "I talked it over with Arthur, and we both agree. Dagonet would have liked to know that his blades were still in use." Once again I was dumbfounded. For some strange reason I began to feel my eyes welling up with tears, but I quickly willed them to go away. Placing the weapon back down, I wrapped my arms strongly around his back.

"You don't know how much this means to me.." I whispered as he kissed my shoulder. He simply rubbed my back with his hands.

After letting go, and rubbing the tears from my cheeks, I took the dagger into my hands once more. A part of him was now with me, it felt like.

Trying to break the mushiness of the whole situation, Lancelot grinned. "Well…will you sleep with me now?" he asked, winking his right eye.

I laughed. It felt good to laugh. I clutched the dagger and sighed. "You certainly know how to find a girl's weakness…and the answers still no…" His face fell for a second, but brightened back up as we exited the armory.

"Thank you, Dagonet…" I whispered low enough so Lancelot couldn't hear, though he smiled when I said it.


	6. Learning the art

Thank you so much for all your support and reviews, they are what keep me writing. You guys rock! This next chapter was kinda spur of the moment, but fun. As always, enjoy and feedback is certainly appreciated.

A week into my new life, I had started to feel a bit less nervous and a little more outgoing toward my new British friends. Indeed, my rump was completely sore from the endless hours King Arthur had us sitting at the Round Table, debating various political points. I learned that starting scratch in this country takes hard work from everyone, and at times tempers grew thin. Once during one of our very long meetings about sharecropping and what its affects would be on the citizens I actually stood up and shouted my opinion at the king! Of course, afterwards I felt very small, widening my eyes and gulping the saliva down my throat. To my relief, Bors and Galahad began laughing and Arthur actually nodded his head, agreeing with me. No more have a felt the little girl here. It is clear that Arthur values my time spent in Rome, learning the ways of the republic and trying to put forth some of their ways here.

During another meeting my new King appointed Lancelot as his "King's Defender", that is, his bodyguard and councilor of War. Bors he made Lord of Archenridge, a land a bit east of our fortress between two valleys. Gawain was made Commander of the army; though the Woads had their own warrior commander, a Pict by the name of Corwin. I'm not sure who had seniority over whom. Galahad was content with being Lord of Britensmill, a small sea port a few day's south. I was happy for them all, Arthur had chosen jobs they would all enjoy. Merlin, of course, was his Chief Advisor. At last his eyes looked down to me, and I found myself a bit anxious. Of course I knew I wasn't going to be named "Chief Maid" or something along those lines, but never in my wildest dreams could I have prepared myself for what he said next.

"Arria. You have shown everyone here your courage, your honor, and your kind nature for all beings. This is why you and no one else could take on this task. You are to be my Captain of the King's Riders." His eyes glistened for a minute, knowing fully well my expression must have been priceless.

Suddenly the words of my father sprung forth into my ears… "if only you had been born a man.." he had said. Well, apparently you don't need to be a man on this island to gain such a noble title. And just what exactly did my title entail? Arthur explained.

"As with any new government, there are dangers from within. Noblemen do no obey, smuggling occurs, things of this sort. You my dear are to root out the evils within our homeland. Catch the serfdom that continues. Deal with the slaveholders that disobey. Network men into every village to see how masters uphold…or lack, my new laws. See how the people are treated. This nation will live for freedom, and I need someone to be my eyes for all things within. You are the only one that can accomplish this." I sat up straighter, both excited and nervous at the idea of me possibly leading anyone. Over the next few weeks I was to learn more about running a country than anything my father taught me.

First, Arthur commanded me to learn everything I can about swordsmanship, both on and off a horse; along with knife throwing, body punching, axe wielding, tracking, navigating, shield defending, hunting, and anything else key to survival. Guinevere taught me correct kniving techniques and different punches to throw. She knew techniques even Leon probably couldn't have matched. I could now flip a person over my back and get out of a chest hold. Of course, the King just had to appoint Lancelot to teach me most of the rest.

When he wasn't showing me the correct way to deflect a high swing, he was kissing me when our swords clashed and we were chest to chest, with only our blades parting us. Of course I half didn't mind, but I never let him know that. Instead I would play angry and try and kick him while he was distracted. The first time it worked, and his smile grinned with playfulness, though I knew inwardly he was hurting from my kick.

On the third day of training, I was given a spear and asked to throw it. "As far as you can, love," Lancelot commanded, smiling.

I sighed, and picked up the spear, which in my opinion was quite heavy. I threw it, and instead of it gracefully hitting the target five yards away, it floppily jerked around, falling a few feet short of the intended mark. I clenched my fists as Lancelot laughed at my folly. I turned to him and narrowed my eyes.

"Well, you try doing better in your first week of training with both your arms numb from soreness!" I shouted at him, annoyed. How could anybody possibly take orders from a girl that couldn't even throw a spear five yards?? A lot of pressure was building up inside of me by then. It just couldn't be done, I told myself.

Lancelot stopped chuckling and put a hand on my shoulder, which I shrugged off. He sighed. "I'm sorry, dove." He liked to call me a new animal name everyday, another annoying side of Sir Lancelot. "Look, you can't get frustrated so easily. Yes, your being asked to learn a lot in a very short amount of time, but you can't expect to do well in everything all at once. Hell, I couldn't make an arrow go ten feet within the target range in my first two YEARS of training! It was a sad sight." I smiled at this but looked away.

He continued. "Now come on, there's no use giving up when you've barely begun."

"Whose giving up?!" I half shouted, grabbing another spear. I saw his eyes twinkle with of smirk. He knew how to push me, and what's worse, he was gloating in the fact that he knew how to push me.

I looked at the target, willing it to take the form of the Bishop, and I flung this one forward. It definitely went farther, but still sloppily curved to the left. "There. You see? Better already."

"Maybe you could stand over there and I'll aim for an apple on top of your head…" I playfully said nonchalantly.

"Sorry, dove. You aren't that good. And I wouldn't even be worried, because you'd accidentally hit the haystack twenty feet to my left anyway." I punched him in the arm as he chuckled, and kept on throwing spears.

By dusk I was walking like a common beggar on the streets, with my back hunched and my arms hanging limply by my sides. I grunted hello to Bors as I passed him down the stairs, and passed out as soon as I hit my bed. I found every bone in my body ching the next morning as one of the maids came in to fix me tea. I thanked her and got dressed, outfitted in breeches and a buttoned cloth shirt, looking very much like a man. Pulling back my hair, I grabbed an apple off the tray and trudged downstairs towards my doom. As I opened the door to go out into the practice courtyard I felt an arm grab me and pull me up against the wall, with lips suddenly upon my mine. Before I could see anyone I jabbed the intruder in the belly, then as he bent over in pain I kneed him in the chin, sending him to the ground.

Upon seeing familiar brown curly locks and a groan I clenched my teeth in embarrassment.

"Sorry Lancelot!" I cried, helping him up. "You scared me you brute!" He rubbed his chin and sighed.

"I guess I deserved that."

I lifted my left eyebrow in reply, and he grunted. "Well lioness, I was going to teach you some fancy sword skills, but I suppose something else could do now that I'm injured." I rolled my eyes but was delighted, because whatever it was we were going to do sounded less painful. "Come on.." he commanded, pretending to limp. I shook my head at his antics to make me feel remorseful.

We entered the stables and found Gawain saddling up his horse, a black stallion named Moonlight. "Hullo Gawain" Lancelot called. I nodded my hellos and he nodded back. "Out for a morning trot?" he asked.

Gawain tightened the saddle a bit and mounted his beautiful steed. "Indeed. Galahad went to visit his newly acquired lands and Bors is with Vanora, probably babysitting the kids.

"Is Bors ever going to name his children?" I asked, curious.

Gawain guffawed in reply. "Even if he did, he'd never remember who he named what."

"Rumor has it some of those kids are fathered by another man…" I began, looking intensely towards Lancelot.

His reply? "And when did you ever start believing in village gossip, milady?"

"Since the rumors started becoming true.."

He gruffed and dropped the subject. "Now then. Today we'll learn some tracking skills, in case you ever have to hunt for food or raiders. Gawain, care to join us?"

"I suppose it'll be a laugh trying to see you teach tracking when we all know you never know where the hell your going…" I giggled, but stopped when my 'teacher' gave me a look.

Gawain bent close and whispered in my ear, "This one can't even find which ways north in the night!" Not that I could, but I chuckled anyway.

Lancelot overheard. "If we please, ladies, time is wasting away…"

We mounted up and set off out of the fortress and into the nearest wood. Along the trail Gawain taught me various ways to spot tracks, such as broken sticks and leaf positions on the ground. I was made to memorize all the valleys and forests and trails and streams to take to the various villages. Lancelot explained the best campsites for raiders, what weapons they used, and their scouting techniques. Finally we made it to a clearing, and Gawain made me memorize the mountains in front of us, telling me which roads ledto which cities and how far away they are and such. It was a lot of information to take in all at once, but thank goodness for my schooling in Rome, otherwise all of this would have went right over my head.

Trotting out towards a field.. "Harrow's Field" Gawain corrected, Lancelot unsheathed one of his swords as did Gawain. I did the same, groaning inwardly, knowing I'll be feeling the same aches and pains tomorrow. Lancelot kicked his horse toward me. "Now at close range" he began seriously, "there's no time to kick your horse out of the way. You have to block, like so, if he swings at you in a vertical motion." He brought up his sword, and I in turn tilted mine to block, but he shook his head. "You have to have more balance. If you block it like that, he'll knock your own sword to the ground. Here, watch Gawain and I." I did as I was told, fascinated by their intricate attacks and blows they tried upon their horses, shifting their weights at the right moment so as no to fall off.

When it was my turn again, I found it extremely hard to focus on the swordfight and the balancing on top of a horse at the same time. I fell off three times, but got back on without a word, not wanting to complain like the other day. I listened hard to what they both said, and by the end of an hour of practice, I had blocked a high blow (while staying on top a horse) and even managed to get in a slight attack swing, though Gawain easily blocked it. He congratulated me, and we started for home.

Along the route (across the fields and streams instead of the forests), Gawain told various stories of their adventures as young knights. Lancelot remained silent but smiling, though I sensed he was thinking heavily upon something.

"And of course, he was drunk off his rocker, and Dagonet had to hose him down with a bucket full of water to get him up. And Arthur…oh god, Arthur nearly had a fit when Bors walked into the court wet and drunk and carried on a conversation with the Roman ambassador about how 'great those Roman skirts were..so airy and easy to piss in'. Arthur wanted to kill him!" I laughed alongside Gawain, imagining it all in my head. It was mid afternoon when we reached home again, and I dismounted and stated that a bath was in store. I turned to Lancelot, expecting a lude comment about joining me, but found him silently caressing his horse as he took off her bridle. Gawain left the stables to go eat. I grabbed some nearby oats and handed it to the mare I was riding, who took it willingly.

"You were awfully quiet back there." I began, not sure what he would say. He patted the head of his mare once more.

He didn't look at me as he fed his own mare some oats. "You did well today." I smiled, but knew that wasn't all. When I didn't leave he sighed. "I haven't known you that long Arria, but I already find myself worried."

"Worried?" I questioned, a bit taken aback.

He turned to look at me. His horse nodded his head against Lancelot's shoulder, wanting more food. He ignored it. "Here I am teaching you battle tactics and tracking skills, how to be a warrior and spymaster and hunter. Its just…in a few months your going to be looking for trouble, digging it out. And it will be dangerous. I just wish you were the one being protected, not the protector." He looked down now, apparently embarrassed by his words.

I walked closer and touched his cheek, bringing his face up. He squeezed the hand that was on his face. "We all have our chosen paths, Lancelot. This is my calling. And yes, I may never throw a spear right or know how many yards away an enemy is…but when Arthur gave me this post, I felt a sense of rejuvenation. Of course there will be scary times, and I'll do my best to survive. But it is a harsh world we live in, and I'm much better off knowing these skills and using them properly." Lancelot grunted and rolled his eyes. "Would you rather me stay cooped up in the castle, gathering dust like a statue that sees no adventure?"

"I'd rather see you alive." Lancelot stated. I smiled, feeling a bit happy that he has strong feelings over this.

I continued. "Do you think me weak?" I asked, knowing his answer.

He rolled his eyes again. "No. You're the strongest woman I know."

I kissed his cheek. "And the most exciting.." I whispered softly in his ear, knowing he was smiling.

I closed my eyes and kissed his lips. "It is nice to know that you worry over me".

He grabbed me and proceeded to put his lips on my neck, making my eyes widen with pleasure. "Give me your body right now and I'll worry even more over you…" I giggled, backing away with my hands.

"Is that the best line you could come up with?" I stated, smiling and walking out of the stable, towards my heavenly bath, leaving the knight confused and excited all at once. I was getting better at his game.

I remained in the bath for quite some time, rubbing the scented oils on my aching shoulders and legs, feeling like a true lady once more. I put on the finest robe I could find, and enjoyed a peaceful supper with Guinevere, dishing about men and feeling giddy.

After digesting, Guinevere suggested a few more hand to hand combat rounds, and I politely refused. I retreated to the library, my refuge, and began to look at maps of Britain. I kept my candle close, for it was very dark and quiet in this corner of the fort. I did not even realize anyone else was in there, until about half an hour of memorizing I heard footsteps coming closer. Keeping my left hand near my new dagger and the right holding the candle, I shouted out, "Who goes there?"

As the shadow came closer, he spoke. "Catching up on your readings?"

I sighed heavily. "How long have you been in here, your majesty?"

King Arthur took seat next to me. "A while. I often come here to meditate."

"In the dark?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The dark is the best place to go when I talk with God."

"Why is that?" I questioned. He chuckled.

"No distractions. Its peaceful, and in the dark its like I can see what it is that God wants from me" Arthur said, his voice a bit dreamy. I said nothing, and he continued, looking on to my maps. "Lancelot, Guinevere, and Gawain say you improve remarkably fast. Though I would expect nothing less from a Roman scholar of Nicoteles." I smiled at the compliment towards my father.

"Your majesty, do you still dream of Rome?" I asked, truly wanting to know.

It took him a second to answer. "I did once. I dreamt of the ideals I thought Rome was. Now that I see those ideas are going to be placed here, I see no reason to return. Do you, Lady Arria, wish to see Rome again?"

It was a question I had been pondering myself. But I finally had an answer. "I wish to see my palace, my horse, the memories of father and my sisters strong there. I feel like I'm losing them here, for it was here that I lost them."

"I keep forgetting that it is still fresh in your mind. It took me years to get over the death of my mother, Arria. She died in a village not far from here."

"And do the memories of that day still haunt you?" I asked, not caring that this was a very personal question to ask, especially to the king.

"I still felt the heat from the fire, her screams…everything dreadful from that night. But that was because I was angered. I bore hatred to those who killed her, but when I let go of that anger I no longer felt the pain. You got your revenge on your family, but you found it did not heal, am I right?"

I simply nodded. He went on. "So many think vengeance solves the world's problems. That is why wars are waged and offspring are murdered. And yet, when the one you want is dead, people know it is not enough, and either they go on killing, or they let go. Letting go was the best thing I did."

"But Arthur-" I quickly remembered that this was a very informal and hideous thing to say, but thankfully he did not take offense. "I feel that if I let go of the pain, the entire memory of them will fade, the good and the bad."

He smiled and put one arm around my shoulder in a fatherly motion. "That will never happen, Arria. I promise." After saying this he patted my shoulder and left the library. My candle was down to the end of its wax, and soon I was in the dark, by myself. And I prayed. Arthur was right, and I finally let go.


	7. Enter the Romans again

So okay, this chapter isn't as….romantic, but very informational. And wow, you guys must check to see if I update everyday, cuz every time I come online theres a new review…I love that! Keeps me motivated…so starnat, legolover, devonshirelass, katemary, mustang gal, draculas princess, torque 69- you guys are so faithful in reviewing, I just HAD to give yall a shoutout! And if I missed anyone, sorry!! It's 3:30AM and I'm running on low amounts of sleep and lots of tea and coffee. Never work at Starbucks….

And as the training went on over the next couple of weeks, I found myself wearily trying to avoid Lancelot, for he was the biggest distraction throughout the days. At any moment I fought the idea that the next time he asked me to lay with him, I would. For you see, my flirting and fun with him had developed into something stronger as we spent more time together, and that was not a good sign, because I did not intend to include the L word on my agenda. I found myself asking Gawain and Galahad to help me more, and every time Lancelot cocked his head slightly and narrowed his eyes in confusion. Desperate to keep composure, I avoided his gaze during those times. That is to say, when lessons were over I did not mind the occasional kiss or winks on his part. I knew he was frustrated with my bewildering activity, but I am in fact, a woman after all.

As I said before, I threw myself fully into learning everything there was to know about my post requirements. And it came to pass, about maybe four months after the Saxons had been defeated on our soil, that a troop of about thirty Roman guards and two carriages made their way into our fort. I was in the courtyard sparring with Galahad when the trumpets sounded. We both exchanged queer glances at one another before wiping the sweat off our faces and heading over across the fence to the gates as they opened. Apparently Arthur was welcoming them in without question.

As we approached, I put the sword we were sparring with back in its sheath, though close by my side. I can't say that my outlook on Romans was not the same as it was, let's say, a year ago. As the procession of soldiers made there way inside, the two carriages stopped, and Arthur appeared, as well as Lancelot and Guinevere from inside. Bors and Gawain soon joined Galahad and I on the side. Arthur had managed to put on his best armor and cloak (most likely courtesy of Guinevere). His face looked that of a forced smile, unsure of what to expect. Lancelot looked around nervously, paying close attention to each and every guard. He, like myself, had his hands very close to his swords, not wanting to take any chances.

Finally the first carriage opened, and out came what seemed to be either an Arch Bishop or a Cardinal by the robes he wore. The soldiers had circled now and pushed Galahad, Gawain and I out of the way, leaving me on my Tipp toes. He bore a look of regality, one that gained respect through intimidation. His eyebrows were dark and bushy, his eyes bulgy. He had a small beard that was half gray and half dark brown. A lowly priest followed him, bowing his head the whole time.

"Artorius Castus!" The Roman said, his arms outstretched.

It was hard to tell Arthur's expression: it was not softened upon seeing this man, but was not alarmed. "Arch Bishop Ferdinand. What brings you to Britain? I was told Rome was done with this part of the world." His face was stern, and I sensed he did not enjoy this holy man.

The Arch Bishop smiled. "Please. I am weary, commander. Perhaps after I rest we can begin our discussions."

Arthur seemed to snap out of his gaze and gave Ferdinand a nod. "Forgive me for my uncivilized response. By all means, make yourself comfortable." I narrowed my eyes. The Arch Bishop had called Arthur 'commander' instead of 'your Majesty'. Rome must not know that Britain is now a monarchy. Or perhaps they refuse to let this happen? A part of me wondered.

The Arch Bishop nodded to his soldiers. "Let me introduce to you my nephew, Titus Sidonius, pupil of the Pope and maybe, one day, Archbishop," he chuckled softly to himself as a young man in his early twenties exited from the other carriage, looking nervous and shifting his eyes left and right, apparently uncomfortable at his situation. He was of medium build and had the same bushy eyebrows as his uncle, though his eyes were much smaller and less creepy.

The Archbishop continued. "With him his sister Irina, my most beautiful niece." Now a woman stepped forward, obviously elder than her brother, but still in her twenties. Her hair was long and curly, with her posture stiff and her head high. She lifted her chin, clearly defining her superiority, and walked up to Arthur, smiling flirtatiously.

"Welcome, milady," Arthur stated, kissing her jeweled hand. I noticed Guinevere clench her left fist, though no one else saw. I smiled, knowing Guinevere had the same doubts of this woman that I immediately had upon seeing her. Still, I suppose this was going to be a civilized visit.

The party gathered within, and after a short bath to scrub away my sweaty features, and putting on scented oils and a golden silk robe, I traveled back down to greet the guests. Naturally, everyone had met in room of the Round Table, and I saw that all the knights were supremely dressed for a change, including Lancelot. All of us stood behind our designated chairs, waiting for our Majesty to be seated. The order went as follows: starting from the doorway, the seating arrangement was Bors, Galahad, Merlin, Guinevere, Arthur, Lancelot, myself, Gawain, and our three guests, who had not yet arrived. Arthur made us stand until they came, and the Archbishop plopped himself next to Gawain, and then Titus, and finally, the elegant Irina, who now sported a rose sequented robe, with gold jewelry glittering from head to toe. I glanced over at Guinevere, and she gave me a slight smile. As we began to sit, Lancelot whispered in my ear, "You look lovely".

I smiled, knowing he was telling the truth. Arthur began. "May I introduce my most trusted adversaries", he said, naming us all in turn. When he called my name, I couldn't help but notice the Archbishop stiffen, but perhaps that was because Arthur had stated my title, which was quite uncommon for a female to hold such rank. "Well Archbishop, we are pleased to have you here, although we'd love to know what brings you so far west of the civilized world."

I would have just said, "What do you want, Roman?" but I suppose he sounded more regal and hospitable this way.

The Archbishop Ferdinand cleared his throat. "We were dispatched on the order of the Pope the moment Alecto arrived in Rome, without the company of the Bishop Germanus and the Senator Nicoteles. Upon hearing that the Bishop was murdered, the Pope wanted an extensive investigation into this tragedy." Upon hearing this my blood boiled. How dare they call his death a tragedy! From under the table I felt Lancelot's hand grip mine in comfort, as if to say, 'be calm'. I obeyed and kept my composure. He went on. "The Pope also asks why you, Artorius Castus, refused to return to Rome and instead have claimed Britain as your own as soon as Rome left."

Bors stood up in immediate defiance. "You will address him as 'your Majesty'!" He shouted, banging his fist on the table. Arthur stood and gave Bors a look that said "down", and the feirce knight obeyed. The Archbishop smiled.

"Forgive me. But I was under the impression that as a Roman citizen, Artorius, and a legion commander you obeyed no one but the Emperor Anthemius and the Pope. Was it under their orders to make yourself High King of Britain, or your own selfish interests?" he stated this last point in a mocking tone, obviously willing Arthur to lash out.

But instead, Arthur exclaimed, very calmly, "Watch your step, Ferdinand. You are but a guest in my country."

For the first time Titus stood. "Please, your Majesty, forgive my uncle, we are still weary from our long journey. He merely wants to ascertain that the Pope is most displeased with your…choice. He wishes you to denounce your kingship and return to Rome immediately. You are also under suspicion of having something to do with the Bishop's death. These are all but words from the Holy Pope, please", he stated, his eyes and voice sure of himself, unlike the nervous boy I had seen earlier.

Arthur looked at the Archbishop's nephew with a newfound respect for civilized conversation. "I do not deny that my kingship defies the Roman Empire, but I myself am half Britain and declared my title after the Romans left. I see not why Rome cares so much, since they cared little to stay on the island themselves."

The Archbishop cut him off-"That was before we knew of the victory against the Saxons. The Emperor wishes to have his land back now, to call upon in case war against the Hun is proclaimed. The Pope has asked me to relieve you of your services here. You have kept this land free from Saxons, for which the Emperor is grateful, but you must renounce yourself as High King and relinquish all rights back to Rome." To this, all of us widened our eyes and looked at one another in shock. To make his point, he added, "More soldiers and adversaries are being dispatched here as we speak."

Arthur stood silent for a moment, then spoke, his eyes blazing. "Rome relinquished it's right to this land when they left it to the Saxons. I will gladly give up my Roman citizenship so as not to 'defy' your Emperor, but I will not give up my home. The Rome I once knew is gone. Let him send soldiers. He cannot wage war on this country while trying to fend off the Hun so near his Empire. And I do not see why the Pope has anything to do with this." He spoke with regality and respect, something I surely would not have done. I turned to Lancelot, whose face looked grim with both anger and despair. Defeating the Saxons was one thing, but now it seemed we might have to take on the Roman Empire.

The Archbishop seemed not in the least surprised. "Ahh, Arthur, you see, I was just getting to my second point. The Bishop's death. You are accused of treason if found convicted, your majesty" he said this last part with some spite.

Arthur broke in "Perhaps the Pope should have asked young Alecto how that came to happen…" I was nervous, because this subject had very much to do with me, and I prayed to God Arthur was not trying to hide my vengeance.

Ferdinand smiled. "Young Alecto was in a state of shock when he arrived. After some questioning, the best we could get out was that senator Nicoteles and you devised a scheme to vanquish the Bishop because he did not give your men their discharge papers right away." My heart was pounding, and at once I wanted to scream at the vile creature the lies he spoke! Instead though, both Gawain and Lancelot had enough nerve to pat down my legs, them both knowing my temper. I looked to Guinevere, who shook her head at me. I clenched my teeth together, and noticed that all three of our guests were strangely glancing my way too.

Arthur sighed. "These are lies, Archbishop. And I find it hard to believe that Alecto would come up with so wild a story without some persuasion. Perhaps somehow the part of the Bishop murderously killing a Roman senator and his family should warrant any excuse for his death?"

Ferdinand seemed all to ready for this. "And where is proof of that? Alecto did not speak of it."

"I am proof." Yes, I know, it was me that spoke, jumping out of my seat. I continued, staring straight into the Archbishop's bulging eyes, my tone harsh. "I watched as that sack of wine cowardly betrayed my father and murdered my innocent sisters." Lancelot's hand was grabbing my arm, willing me to stop, but this vermin had gone too far. I shook Lancelot's hand away. "But I suppose this piece of information was kept quiet, because no one can learn of a corrupt bishop! It is unthinkable! Why, it must be hushed up to ensure order!" I shouted with sarcasm.

"Arria!" Arthur bellowed. Upon hearing him, I bit my lower lip, and sank back into my seat, my dagger about to be drawn.

Just as I suspected, the Archbishop seemed in the least surprised once more. "Did you put her up to this Arthur? A poor Roman girl most likely blackmailed into defending your scheme? Let me tell you what I suspect. I suspect you had her family killed as well as the Bishop. You made the girl come up with such a deceitful story to state treachery in the Holy Church. You blackmailed Alecto into keeping quiet about the affair, but sorry Arthur, we know the truth."

To this I wanted to jump across the table and slit his throat myself. The lady Irina was quiet throughout all of this, most likely not comprehending what was going on, or not caring. Titus was listening intently, his eyes widened at the drama enfolding. And Arthur, well Arthur started laughing. Not the kind of laugh that comes from a silly act, but a laugh of mockery.

"I see now that the Pope wishes to have my blood so that the Emperor will not have to deal with rebellion from Britain. Alecto told you the truth, but you embellished it so as, like Lady Arria stated, not to incriminate a church official." I narrowed my eyes, disgusted with all Catholic officials.

The Archbishop sighed. "I am but a messenger, Arthur. I do not have the manpower to arrest you, merely to warn you of what is to come, unless you agree to these convictions and come peacefully with us back to Rome where you will stand trial." He bowed his head, but I could see the corner of his lips forming into a sly smile. I shuddered with rage. The tension was so thick you could swing a blade through it, but for a minute no one spoke.

Finally, after contemplating it for a minute, Arthur spoke. "I see that there is no way to avoid bloodshed, but on my honor I will not leave my country to be taken by a dictator. Go back to Rome and tell your Emperor that I renounce my citizenship, decline his generous offer for taking over, and plead innocent to the charges of murder brought before me." I couldn't help but slightly smile to his words.

Looking put out, Ferdinand nodded. "Very well, Artorius Castus. We shall leave at dawn, carrying your message."

"Uncle please!" Everyone looked to Titus, who grabbed his uncle by the arm, bidding him not to leave. The Archbishop's eyes widened at such insolence.

"Please, uncle. Perhaps this king speaks the truth, and the Bishop did such horrible deeds. There is even a witness! Perhaps we can convince the Pope to drop the charges" there was pleading in his voice, as if he knew without doubt that Arthur, a man he had barely known, was telling the truth.

In reply, Ferdinand smacked his son across the face, and left the room. Everyone sat in shock, as Irina put her arms slowly on her brother's shoulders in comfort.

"Please forgive my uncle. He was close friends with the Bishop and may not…well, he…" he stated to the group, though his eyes were upon me. He gulped.

Arthur rose. "Rome is just trying to gain back its empire, though it is failing. This whole accusation was just a charade to denounce my reputation to the world.

"Surely this treachery cannot exist within the Church.." Irina began, looking horrified.

Titus rose also, keeping his eyes on the floor. "But it does, sister. Corruption is everywhere, I have even seen it with my own eyes." He sighed, shifting his eyes with nervousness and looked across to our king. He bowed his head, and quieted his voice. "Your majesty, you are right. Rome is crumbling, and I fear my uncle has not been honest with you. I am a pupil to the Pope, and I do not agree with some things that are happening right now. I am not supposed to know of this information, but I can see that my uncle and the Pope have strayed from the ways of God. You must hear me." There was a sense of desperation in his voice now, and Irina looked around in fear. "The Emperor has already dispatched an entire legion to battle against you. What my uncle said was false. Our coming was merely a distraction. By now Roman soldiers have probably landed already, somewhere north of Gwynedd. I'm sorry I was not truthful in the beginning." He looked down, embarrassed.

Arthur walked over and put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You have done a great deed, Titus Sidonius. But the information you gave could cost you your life. I have no choice but to hold your uncle in the dungeon, and I'm afraid it is not safe for you and your sister to return to Rome." At this Titus looked at his sister with fear. She opened her mouth slightly in shock, with a tear rolling down her cheek in fright.

We broke up soon after, Arthur commanding two guards to seize the archbishop and hold him against his will. Lancelot walked me back to my quarters, both of us silent the whole way.

When we reached my door, I didn't want to speak. I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to move. My arms were crossed, and my stomach had millions of knots inside. To know that in my homeland such corruption could reign…it sickened me. To know that the Pope himself was corrupt was even more harassing. All I had ever known in Rome was a lie. Lancelot sighed, and put one hand on my back, rubbing up and down. I moved closer, and hit my face against his chest. Soon both arms were wrapped around me, though I still held my own arms crossed, unable to move them. He put his chin on the top of my head and started swaying me side to side.

"I'm proud of you," he said, in a hushed tone. "You stood up for yourself."

I said nothing. Arthur had ordered us to get a few hours sleep, for at dawn we needed to plan our warfare tactics. It seemed peace was not to come yet.


	8. Preparing for battle

Misguided Roses Chapter 8

Okay, I'm really trying to write as much as I can before school starts up again next week, because after that, chapters will be sparse. We're getting back more into the plot and less of those awesome but fluffy love scenes, haha. Hope you like. And yes, I took various lands and names that were real back in the dark ages, but mixed into one time period. No historical accuracy whatsoever. And thank you so much for your awesome reviews. Yes, I must edit more carefully, haha, thanks. Enjoy!

Of course, I couldn't sleep that night, and found myself practicing various staff workouts, courtesy of Guinevere. I can't help but express the level of improvement I've made over the past few months concerning my new warrior skills. That's not to say I'm an expert, or can even stand up to any of the Sarmatian knights in battle…but I was most definitely better at throwing spears, hand to hand combat, tracking, swordsmanship, horseback riding, hunting…basically everything I needed to learn for my post training I had, and according to Arthur, learned well.

After the first hour of staff work, I lit a candle by my bed and began reading one of the record scrollsthe Kinghad given me, the most up to date history on this island, including more maps.

After reviewing a few things I already knew, I looked out my small window and noticed the first outline of light blue appearing towards the east. It would be dawn soon. I got dressed, this time in brown breeches and a cloth shirt that I quickly threw over my head, tying the strings that held it together near the collar. There would be much to do today; no need to dress formally. I pulled my hair back with one of my spare pieces of string. I tied on my black leather boots, from which Lancelot made a slit in the left heel to cleverlyinsert a knife, and attached my dagger into my belt. I decided not to add my sword, for I was certain we would all be sitting down for a good part of the day strategizing our moves.

Upon entering the room of the Round Table, I took notice that I was still a good hour early. Nevertheless, I took my seat, not tired in the least, after placing a lit torch into its berth to light the room. I noticed that during the night Jols must have left us various maps of the land, including where Titus said the Romans would land. I took the nearest map and stared intently on it. Placing my elbow on the table, with my fist on my chin, I sighed. If the Romans have indeed, landed already, we were deeply in a sore spot. Hadrian's Wall still was in tact; that would be our best defense. I suddenly let my mind wander back to my first battle, and how naïve and green horned I was. If what Titus says was true, that means this time we'll be facing twice as many Romans as there were Saxons last time. Staring at the map, I noticed we were a good three day journey south of them. It would take too long to send help from Kent in the southeast. The Lord of Dumnonia was having his own internal problems and could probably not send help, even though he wasour closest ally geographically. Powys most certainly was out of the question, because that was supposed to be my first stop as Captain of the King's Riders, due to the corruption and turmoil under the tyranny of 'king' Cyngen, who refused to pledge allegiance to Arthur the High King.

This was not good. "Couldn't sleep?" Arthur asked, coming into the room, Guinevere following.

I stood up, and bowed. He nodded slightly, and all three of us sat. "It's not looking good, your Majesty." I began, my face solemn with truth.

The King took some of the maps from my reach and began scanning them, just as I had done minutes ago. He scratched the side of his left cheek with frustration.

Guinevere glanced at the maps, but soon looked back into her lover's face. "My King, how do we even know these Romans have landed? Perhaps Titus lies, and the Romans won't be here for months-"

Arthur cut her off. "Perhaps he lies, but I will not take any chances. I have sent scouts toward the northern Penwith region. We should know soon whether they are here. In the meantime, we have to be prepared for an attack."

I stared at the table. "My Lord, we cannot get support from regions nearest us. We will be outflanked 3:1." As I was speaking Merlin walked in, and stood behind Arthur. Gawain and Galahad also trudged in, both expressing the same nervous glances. Lancelot and Bors followed minutes later.

"Summon the priest Titus and his sister." Arthur commanded to Jols, who nodded his head.

Over the next few hours we planned our strategy, though everyone had a sense that we could not possibly win against such a massive force, if Titus' information was correct.

I noticed Titus kept his mouth quiet most of the time, his eyes downcast in shame. I took pity, knowing slightly how he felt.

Merlin assured Arthur every single Woad warrior was ready for battle once more, and he had even sent some of his own scouts late last night to make their own predictions of what was in store.

New scrolls were brought for Arthur to draw, using his quill, various battle tactics to use this time around.

"This indeed will be more difficult than anything we have undertaken, especially adding to the fact that these Roman military soldiers know our style of fighting, since I grew up with these same knowledge as they of how to win wars." There was a sense of sadness in his voice, as if he himself were already predicting doom. "We will stay here all night if we have to, and come up with a surefire plan to beat them on our soil."

Supper was brought as the sun began to make its way down on the land once more. We were all weary from thinking. I sipped my gauntlet of wine a little faster than normal. I looked across the table at Bors, who was on his third drink, the wench looking at Arthur to make sure it was okay. The Lady Irina had retired to her room long before, as she wasn't exactly key to helping out. Glancing at Lancelot, I noticed he was blankly staring ahead, not even touching his food or wine. He knew there was no way to get out of this patch alive.

Taking a slight break to digest our food, I retired from the room for a moment to stretch my legs. I walked down several torch lit corridors and once more entered into the King's Armory. I looked on to Tristan's sword, fascinated with its curved shape. Hearing the men talk about him all the time, I wish I had a known him a little better.

"Amazing, isn't it?" I turned around quickly, not hearing anyone come into the room. I sighed when I saw Titus leaning against the wall in praise, but my eyes narrowed. Even I had gotten better at hearing others approach, and this priest was uncommonly stealthy. I sniffed.

"What is, exactly?"

He pointed up to Tristan's sword. "The only places you find these swords are to the east, the end of the world. And Britain is about as far your away from the Far east you can get" he smirked, walking along with his hands behind his back. Suddenly his smirk disappeared and he looked forlorn upon seeing the various Roman shields displayed. "I never thought the day would come where I would give up Rome."

I gulped, knowing exactly how he felt. "You come to learn after being away that Rome is just a name. Rome was more so whatever you grasped in your heart." He stared at me for a moment, a bit bewildered. This man was forever changing his facial expressions. I sighed and said, "We should get back."

By midnight, Arthur was getting more frustrated by the minute. "Can you come up with nothing better?!!" he shouted at Gawain, who had suggested massive fire assaults.

Our king got up and stamped his fist on the table. "We have just begun to change this land!! We are not one year in and already you give up on something we've bled for at Badon!"

Every knight had his head down, not knowing quite how to reply. Guinevere got up and put her arm on his shoulder, beckoning him that shouting will do no good. His fiery eyes were softened, and he stopped breathing so heavily. Sitting back down, he rubbed his hand across his forehead. "Forgive me, my brave warriors. Please, enough for today. Perhaps in dreams the way to our victory can be shown." We all got up, and after bowing, headed to our respective quarters. I had wanted to stay, to discuss something with Arthur, and found that Lancelot stayed seated as well. After everyone had left and the doors were shut, Lancelot spoke.

"Arthur, I don't like this. This whole thing sounds rash and silly on the Emperor's part. We're not even sure there is an army landing here as we speak. If we don't trust the uncle, what makes you think his nephew speaks the truth?"

Arthur sighed in annoyance. "I would rather not believe Titus' words as well, my friend. It would make things much easier. But as king you can't take chances." It was his way of letting us go. I had wanted to speak with him on another matter, but held my tongue. It would do no good to speak to a cross king.

Walking along the corridor I stopped Lancelot. "Why don't you trust this Titus? Can't you see he is ashamed of his uncle and like me, ashamed of the new corruption in the Roman Church? He is a priest."

He was also frustrated, and turned his black eyes on me. "And how do you know that this is not the true way all Christians act? It seems to me this god of yours wants blood, not love. Every single Catholic I have encountered has turned out to be nothing but a savage beast!" His voice was rising, and on saying that last sentence my eyes narrowed in anger.

"And am I a savage beast, sir knight?" I enquired, my own voice rising.

For a second he seemed apologetic, but it soon turned to reproach. "I think you are confused because your father must have spoken of some new religion, because the Roman Church has always been corrupt and unforgiving and bloodthirsty! Your God is nothing but a tyrant as much as any emperor!"

"Please respect my religion, Lancelot" I said, quieter than before. "I do not badger you of your beliefs."

"Just think, Arria. What kind of god puts evil men in power 'in the name of the Holy Spirit'. What kind of god forbids the union of bodies before the sanctity of marriage but allows his own bishops to rape young girls?"

My whole body tensed, and I found myself sneering. "Is that what this is all about, Lancelot? The fact that I refuse to bed with you? I know you've been frustrated with it, but honestly, in a time like this your going to bring that up??! You are pathetic!" I began to turn and walk up the steps when he grabbed my arm forcefully.

"Listen, Arria, put such petty accusations aside. We are about to be in battle, against a race I have long been wanting to go to war with. You have much to learn dealing with the true ways this world works. Do not act like a silly young girl." He let go of my wrist, and walked the opposite direction.

After opening my door, I slammed it shut, too mad to….function. My eyebrows were so crunched together in frustration I thought they would stay like that forever. Crossing my arms across my chest, I haughtily sat myself on my bed, not even taking off my gear. He's just frustrated with this dooming situation, one part of me said. We all are frustrated, there's no need to attack the ones you care about! Another side of me fought back. I sighed and rested my head against my soft pillow.

A few moments later I heard a knock on my door. "What?!" I screamed, not wanting to deal with him.

"Lady Arria?" a soft voice squeaked. "It's me, Irina. I was hoping we could talk?" I sighed and went over to open the door. Irina, looking very meek and nervous, came into my room and I pleaded her to sit on the chair across my bed. I plopped back down, trying to take off the murderous expression my face probably bore.

"I'm terribly sorry to bother you.." she began, and I gave her a smile to make her feel more at home. "But I need to talk to someone."

When she didn't continue I stated, "I'm all ears."

She nodded, her eyes still downcast. "I am very much afraid, Lady Arria. I had no idea I would be involved in the middle of a war. I just came along to be with my brother. I dare not tell him I wish to go home, because I'm afraid he doesn't think much of home anymore. He feels betrayed by the Church. I am a simple courtier. I want nothing to do with battles and warfare. Please, is there any way for me to leave, tonight? Without telling my brother? He'll make me stay, I know he will." There was desperation in her voice, and I immediately felt sympathetic, though I was a bit turned off by the fact that she did not care for her brother's safety.

"Lady Irina, why would you return to such a corrupt place? They'll know you betrayed your uncle and they will charge you with treason."

She pleaded with me, "No! I cannot stay, Arria! I do not care what happens to me in Rome. I have friends, they can protect me. I must leave tonight! And if no one knows, if the Romans win this battle I will be too far for them to track."

I narrowed my eyes, not quite understanding her reasoning, but then again, the female species is hard to understand, even for other females.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, agreeing to help. "Alright. Pick out one of my throwing knives and keep it hidden. There is a secret passageway out of the fortress, through the armory and behind the shield of Glastonbury. Behind it is a small opening into a cave that will take you to a stream well outside Hadrian's Wall, unnoticed by anyone." She smiled wide, nodding her understanding.

Suddenly I began to feel a little light headed. "You'd best leave now. Good luck on your journey." I said, the headache getting worse. She continued to smile and did not leave her chair.

"Please, Irina, I know your scared but its now or never. I trust you can make it to the armory alone?" My heart began to throb harder and harder, and I pressed my hand to my chest.

"Are you alright?" she exclaimed, and I immediately nodded, though I didn't feel alright. My chest was pounding, and soon I felt my legs beginning to grow numb. My head was woozy.

"Are you sure your alright?" she said. My throat burned, and I tried to speak, though it was hard. I looked at her, and noticed she was smiling….a little too joyfully.

"You poisoned us, didn't you?" I hoarsely stated, and found my throat collapsing. She simply laughed.

"Oh, Arria, please. Poison works too quickly, I had to find a tonic that first paralyzed the body and made its victim black out. Ferdinand wanted it to be done without fuss, so only sleeping tonics take hours after drinking to work." My eyes narrowed, and I lunged at her!

I could not feel my body anymore, and I fell to the ground. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. "You see, Arria, there's no need to be killing you yet. The others, my brother can deal with. And you just supplied me with our escape route." She bent down, next to my face which was lying flat against the floor. "You see there was no Roman legion. That part was made up to have you trust us. Nifty idea, really. Ferdy knew that your pathetic king was far too trustworthy. A great assassination scheme." My eye sight was blurring, though I willed myself to stay awake. I needed to get up. I needed to warn the others…Lancelot.

The wench went on. "After Titus deals with your sleeping king, I told him to visit your lover next, too drugged up to even know he's about to be killed. I told Titus to cut him up, piece by piece." Though my body was stiff, I raged within, wanting to slit her throat right then and there. You will pay, I told her within my mind. You will pay dearly.

The door opened, revealing the Archbishop. Irina walked over and kissed him savagely on the lips. "Is it done?" she asked, in quite a superior tone. I need not explain what she meant, it was too horrifying to think.

"I took care of one of the knights who wasn't in his chambers, the rest Titus is dealing with right now. Did she tell you a way out?" he asked, his voice hushed.

"Yes. Follow me." The Archbishop walked over to where I lay and gave me a good kick, though I couldn't feel anything.

"Good." He bent down. "Your in for a long ride, pretty dear", he exclaimed, chuckling evilly. It was then that darkness claimed me.


	9. Prisoner

Sorry to leave you all with such a bad cliffhanger. I'm evil. But alas, this story wasn't meant to be humorous. Well, not most of it anyway. I'm sorry its taken so long to update, but my mind has been totally blank. Here ya go. As always, thanks for your great reviews! And please don't kill me with your pitchforks!

Chapter 9

_"Arria! Must you be so impatient?!" Domitia exclaimed as two small hands dragged her further and further across the sand and closer to the waves ahead. Marciana clapped her hands, sending her servant closer, holding onto a pole that kept the sun out of her eyes. _

A young girl finally gave up on her sisters and races down towards the waves as they splashed inward, giggling in delight at seeing the ocean for the first time. She reached down and picked up a tiny shell, but soon there were larger and far more interesting shells to get and she tossed the first one aside.

"Arria you'll get your robes wet!" Marciana called in dismay. The young child did not take in her sisters warning, and splashed around, the water at her knees. The father appeared and laughed good naturedly, standing a few feet from the tide. The youngest ran back to her older sister.

"Domitia!" she said, and her sister sighed, looking faintly amused. The child opened up her hand to reveal a most impressive shell, larger than any she'd seen.

"Very good Arria! You've found a conk shell!" her father called, trotting over to his daughters.

"What's so special about it?" Domitia asked.

Her father took the shell and placed it by his ear, smiling. "Why don't you find out?" He gave it to her, and after placing by her own ear, she let out a squeal of delight.

"How amazing!" she exclaimed, looking at her younger sister. "What good fortune Arria! What other shells have you found?" Upon hearing praise (which was rare), the child once more grabbed her sisters hand and dragged her slightly into the water, from which Domitia gave a slight 'Oh!' before digging her own hands into the sand.

After a servant was fetched with a bucket, the girls returned triumphantly with more than thirty various shells, from which they all made necklaces that night. Suddenly Arthur appeared, followed by Bors, and both started prancing all around while the girls clapped them on. Fifty Woads appeared, encircling them and holding hands and twirling all about in celebration!

"Where did you come from?" the little girl asked. Arthur simply smiled and took her conk shell, putting it up to his own ear.

"Give it back!" I yelled, my vision blurry. "Give…it…back…" I whispered once more, shaking my head as chuckling erupted. My body jerked up and down, as if I was on a horse.

"I say Irina, how much dosage have you given her?" The Archbishop called, but my vision was too blurry to see, and I closed my eyes once more, giving in to the darkness.

I cannot say what occurred over the next few weeks, for I can only recall dreams and nightmares. Irina must have kept me drugged everyday, for I barely remember anything. I came in and out of conscious, sometimes feeling the shaking motion as occurs on a horse, sometimes the rocking from a boat. Various smells past through my nose: the sea salty air, fire, horse manure, wheat, dirt. For those few conscious moments I could remember nothing of my past. I was fed ghastly mush, from which most would be thrown up later.

Finally, my eyesight became clear, my headaches decreasing, my five senses returning. She must have stopped administering the tonics, for now I was conscious most of the time, my hands and feet bound, as I was confound in a carriage. My dagger had been taken, and my body shivered. I shook violently in the night; a side effect of the drug. I felt like an animal, caged and alone and unsure of where we were headed. My thoughts drifted back to Britain, for I knew we were far from home.

It took a few days for my strength to return, and when it did, I gave them all a show. I beat the wooden boards wildly with my feet, screaming out every curse on their ancestors I could possibly come up with. Bors would be proud of that. I guess after a few hours the Archbishop couldn't take much more nuisance from me, because the carriage stopped and he came inside and kicked me hard in the ribs.

"QUIET!!" he screamed, the purple vain on his forehead popping. I simply laughed, which apparently, was not the smartest thing to do. I could barely move the next morning.

I took to staring in front of me, letting my mind wonder. Too many questions with no answers plagued my mind as I bit my nails. Was Lancelot alive? Was my king? Was anyone left? Why did these monsters spare me? What significance was I?

I dwelt on the fight I had with Lancelot just before this all happened, replaying it in my mind. I let two small tears escape my eyes before fiercely brushing them away. The first chance I had, I had to get out and return to Britain. I looked down. My hidden knife was still inside my boot. I could easily slip out and try to run for it. But when you have no idea where you are, it's a hard thing to do. So I waited.

A rainy summer had begun, and sometimes I could see only fog out my tiny window. One rather stormy night Irina opened my carriage, with her dagger drawn, and sat down beside me.

"If you don't mind, could you please leave the door open? I smell something foul entering" I asked nonchalantly. She hissed and side slap my cheek.

"I must say, you are tougher than I thought, _Captain Arria of the King's Riders_" she mocked. "How is it that a simple courtier from Rome reached such a title?"

"I've killed many people."

She did not look the least intimidated. Instead she smirked and shook her head. "Why do you think we spared your life, Arria Gaius?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Obviously your employer wants something from me. And I have no clue what that is."

She smiled, her dagger still inches from my side. "Hmm, I'm sure you'll remember when we get there."

"And where exactly are we going?"

To this, Irina laughed, throwing her head up. "Please, girl. We've been traveling for weeks on end. Although I suppose you have no recollection of that…" she opened up the carriage door and had me look out. My eyes widened in shock. Of course I had a feeling, but I wasn't sure. I gazed ahead of me in awe. We were but a few hundred yards from Rome itself. If my hands weren't bound I would have pinched myself to see if I wasn't dreaming.

"Soon we will meet up with my brother, and you'll meet our employer." She leaned in close to my ear. "I bet your dying to know who it is…" she whispered, and walked out of the carriage, locking the door behind her. I kicked it hard, raging within.

This was not supposed to be happening. I was supposed to be fulfilling my purpose. I had almost finished my training, and soon I was to have my first assignment and meet the men I was to have under me. And his face…it haunted me every waking moment. I prayed and prayed to God to know whether or not he was killed. It cut me like a knife to think of the inevitable. I couldn't say it allowed. I wouldn't. I was just beginning to find happiness in the most unlikely land, and all too soon everything I loved was snatched away. Was I being punished?

Soon the smells that could only be found in the marketplace filled my nose. Fish, scented oils, and camel manure all were mixed into one single aroma. I could hear the bustling of carts, donkeys honking their discontent, and laughter from the street urchins. I remained in the carriage as I heard the Ferdinand's soldiers barking at commoners to get out of the way. I could feel the windy roads we took, until all of a sudden the voices died away, and we stopped.

Irina opened the door and cut the ropes that held my feet together, though she kept the ones on my hands bound. I moved my feet around in pain, my ankles burning. She gripped my arm and forced me out. When I looked to see where we were, I almost laughed in spite of myself for my foolishness. One of the soldiers held a sword to my back and rushed my limping body inside, the others following.

Passed the doors and into the stoned palace we entered, servants trying not to stare at us as we went by. Ferdinand led us out of the main room and along a few corridors until we entered the master bedroom, where several flirty girls and boys sat, giggling and looking towards someone upon the bed. Upon hearing the door open, a scruffy bearded man sat up from his silk woven sheets and smiled peevishly at me. I sneered back as a soldier pushed me forward with his sword.

"Archbishop Ferdinand!" His voice bellowed, raising his arms in welcome as he got out of bed. A nearby servant got his robe as he beckoned his entertainment to leave.

The two embraced, laughing heartily. He then proceeded to give Irina too rather doggish kisses on her cheeks as she giggled, though when his eyes left her she narrowed her eyes in disgust.

"A job well done" he said, turning back to the Archbishop. "And what of the king and his men?" he asked, this time a bit quieter.

Ferdinand bowed his head. "Titus will be along shortly with his head, Senator. And it was done quietly, exactly how you wanted."

The Senator's eyes soon fell once more to me. "And I see you've accomplished bringing the girl back as well. Hello, Lady Arria Gaius. I trust your trip was most comfortable."

I struggled against the strong hold of the guard. "God will have his vengeance on you, Senator Gallus. Was it you who convinced Bishop Germanus to execute my entire family as well?" It hurt so bad to let these words exit through my mouth, but I had found out I had gotten stronger recently.

He smiled, opening up his mouth to reveal certain yellow teeth. He ignored my question, looking me over more thoroughly. "That savage land has certainly changed you. You used to be quite the lady." I looked down at my torn and tattered breeches, boots, and shirt. I smirked. I certainly had changed, now, I was deadly. I looked at his wrinkled neck, wanting to raise my knife to it right then and there. But I had been taught better.

"You fail to answer my question, Senator."

His eyes twinkled, amused by my chosen words. "My apologies. Actually, Germanus went against me in the murder of your family. You see, that is why you are here, Arria. I would rather have had your father himself, but it seems Germanus took matters into his own hands and put pleasure before business. And I here from young Alecto that you, my dear, caused his downfall." He started clapping mockingly. "Bravo. You made me have to deal with one less problem on my hand."

He was wearing me down, and I found my voice breaking. "Senator…why have you tried to assassinate my king?"

Ferdinand turned toward me. "Oh come now, silly girl. What I said at Hadrian's Wall was true. The Emperor wants his enemy dead. And he would rather not send an entire army to defeat your Arthur with the Hun at our doorstep."

Thinking about my knights dead…my emotions were very hard to control at that moment. I cleared my throat, trying to remain strong. It's what Arthur or Lancelot would have done. "Which brings me to my last question. What is it that you want from me, Senator?"

He devilishly grinned and winked. "All it good time, Lady Arria. Come now. You must be famished."

Irina cleared her throat, and the Senator turned to her, his look exasperated. "You'll get your earnings when your brother arrives." Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms in dismay.

The soldier was pushing me to follow the Senator, probably to some dungeon. Instead, I found myself being led into one of the guest bedrooms, and I raised my left eyebrow with confusion. Inside, even moreso to my surprise I found I had a guest.

"I will see you soon, my dear" Gallus stated with pleasure, and locked the door behind me.

"Arria!" Alecto said, embracing me like a brother. I found myself stiff, unsure of what to do. What was the Senator's game?

He let go, and looked into my worn out eyes. "Bless the Lord they haven't harmed you. You look absolutely dreadful though." He looked over my clothes, perplexed.

"What happened, Alecto? What happened when you arrived in Rome?" he took my hand and brought me to the bed, where we sat. My legs were still writhing in pain from the journey and my head longed to lay down on the silk pillow, but I fought off my want of comfort.

He downcast his head, ashamed. "I have been such a fool, my friend. I immediately wanted to tell the Pope everything, but he was away on personal matters and I could only speak with the Archbishop Ferdinand. I had no idea he was in on it. The Archbishop brought me to Senator Gallus under false pretenses that he would make all wrongs right if I tell him certain information regarding King Arthur. When I told him all that had happened he threatened myself and my family. I knew I had made a mistake. I spied on him as he wrote letters to the Emperor, and the Pope, all secret documents containing all my information. When I explained that your family was dead yet you had survived the Senator immediately wanted to know all there was to know about you." He paused, catching his breath. "Arria, your father and Pelagius held secrets from the Senators, even from the Pope. Do you have any idea what Gallus wants?"

I tried to remember what father and Pelagius always talked about, but it was hazy. I scrunched my face for a moment, trying with all my will to think of something. But nothing came. I shook my head.

Alecto began to look scared. I pondered for a moment, then guessed. "The Senator brought you here to try and get information out of me, didn't he?" At first Alecto looked shocked at such a statement, but slowly his eyes lowered in humiliation.

"He said if you tell me anything, you won't have to suffer. My mother won't have to suffer."

I closed my eyes, letting the rage envelop my soul once more. "I'm sorry Alecto. I'm so sorry." I looked over, to see him staring quite hard on the mosiac floor below us, his nostrils flaring.

I got closer, whispering in his ear. "We are not safe here. We must flee, as quick as possible, back to Britain…"

He stood up, glaring. "What Britain? All hope is lost, Arria! Your king is dead! Your land is gone! Your dream is done!" At that moment a servant walked quickly in and dropped a tray of fruit on the table, and left without a word. His eyes softened as he saw my look of complete denial.

"Arria…forgive me. I know this is all very difficult for you. Arthur…he was an amazing man. He made me believe that I could be strong. But we are fighting something much larger than ourselves. We're fighting an entire empire. There is no way we can go against the Pope and the Emperor. Some are just too powerful. As to whatever it is they want from you….make it up if you must. Save yourself."

I breathed in deep, shaking my head. "I would think that you of all people should understand that even emperors and popes are merely mortal men. If we fight in the name of our God, who cares whether they triumph over us in this world? It is in next world that we shall arise victorious. I need to go back to Britain, Alecto. It is in that country that lies freedom, but if you would rather stay here in the center of all this dishonesty and fraudulence, then cower in your corner and serve your mortal masters."

He stared at me for a long time, taking in my words. Finally he sighed. "You are much stronger than I, Arria. Please, at least eat something. You'll need your strength. I fear what is in store for you." He left, shutting the door softly behind him.

Knowing that the Senator would not return for quite some time, I lay down on the bed, crunching on an apple. The juices were like heaven to my lips; it had been ages since I was given real food. I began to reenact all that had just occurred inside my mind. Lancelot would be proud of you, my conscious said. I smiled, but inside my stomach lurched with what was to come. "I need you" I whispered silently, leaning against the pillow, his face fresh in my mind. "I need you so much."


	10. The truth

Once again, I mixed history with fiction. A few of the things I've mentioned in this chapter actually occurred, but most definitely not all of it. And yes, I used a quote not owned by me) from Boondock Saints. 1000 points to the person that finds it first. Yay! Longest chapter yet. Reviews welcome! Thanks for all your support guys!

Chapter 10

I remember quite well the few times Senator Gallus visited our home in Rome; he always left my father feeling distressed and angered. Marciana and Domitia never paid much attention, but I knew the Senators bickered and quarreled whenever he came. He always at first pretended to be civilized when his arrival was announced, complimenting the three of us and smiling warmly at my father like a friend. But by the end of the evening father always escorted the senator out, his eyebrows smashed together in annoyance. Gallus always left equally as frustrated.

A knock at the door obliterated my thoughts and I sat up on the bed, sighing in fear of what was to come. The door to my quarters squeaked open and in entered the Senator, smirking the same way he did when he entered our house like when I was but a child.

Along with him followed two of his guards, their hands eagerly reaching towards their sword belts. I looked up at him in spite, staring him down.

"Ah, Arria, you look absolutely ghastly. Have you eaten any fruit?" he asked.

"The apples are bitter" was my reply.

He chuckled quietly and walked slowly towards me, placing his hands behind his back. "Do…you…have any idea why I have taken the liberty of bringing you all the way across the world back to Rome?"

I grasped the silk cloth with my fingers. I smiled courteously at my host. "Perhaps your grace felt obligated by my loss to help bring me back to my origin and once again establish my nobility among the Roman courtiers?"

To this he downright guffawed. "Honestly Arria, you haven't lost your humor. Perhaps that can be arranged, if certain information is provided."

"Regarding..?"

He glanced towards his guards, who shut the door firmly. "You wouldn't be in this situation if Germanus had kept his head, which I AM apologetic for." He stopped to lick his lips, then continued. "I very much hope you know of the information we require. And if you lie to us, Arria, we shall know. Now. Do you know of a man named Caelestius?"

I decided there was no point in lying, at least for now. "Yes. He was a friend of my father's, and Pelagius."

"He is a heretic, and the Pope has declared him dangerous and wishes his arrest. He and Pelagius have been spreading blasphemous ideas against the Roman Church, and must be stopped. It is rumored he hid the documents….the " Contra traducem peccati", with your father, documents we can use against him in trial."

He leaned in closer to me, his breath smelling of rotten eggs. "He is a criminal that must be stopped before any more of his teachings and documents reach the public. It is of utmost emergency that we catch him and quench these heathen ways against our Lord."

He stopped, staring intently into my face. For a moment I said nothing, my mind desperately trying to think. Then, to his great surprise, and my own, I started to laugh.

"You fool. You paid an assassin to kidnap me thousands of miles by the off chance that I know something of my father's business that regards a common criminal?" I continued laughing at the foolishness of it all. Was the Roman church this paranoid of heretics?

Suddenly a strong hand slapped against my cheek, and I fell from the bed to the floor. He gruffed and turned me over so that his body was on top of mine. "Know your place, girl" he whispered, and dragged me up so that I was standing against the wall. I clenched my teeth, trying to keep calm.

"Now. Please, child, do you know anything of Caelestius' whereabouts? Perhaps your father slipped something into your head?" It was clear that he made himself believe I knew something. And if I didn't at least make up anything, my head would surely be on a stake at dawn.

I narrowed my eyes. "My father never told me anything about Caelestius. Perhaps that incompetent beast of a bishop killed Caelestius without telling you….before he murdered my innocent family, that is." He said nothing, only turned his head slightly, indicating I better have something else. "Please, Senator…I do not know anything about your criminal heretic, but perhaps this document you speak of…the _Contra traducem peccati_…perhaps it is hidden within the chamber we do not speak of…" I looked down, pretending to be deep in thought. Of course there was no such thing, and I had to lead him down the wrong trail. Hopefully I was as good an actress as my sisters were around young males.

His eyes widened in hope and greed. "Chamber?"

I looked up, trying to appear afraid. "Never mind. It's nothing…" I couldn't seem too eager to give him information. He gruffed and took hold of my hair, gripping it so hard that my head cocked to the side as he presented a knife to my throat.

"You were saying?" he snarled.

I sniffled and let a small whimper escape my mouth. "The Chh..the secret chamber my father had. I once accidentally saw it, and father made me swear an oath to never reveal where it was." He slowly retracted the blade from my throat and snapped his hand off my hair, jerking my head in the process. I rubbed my scalp as he signaled the guards to leave.

"Very good, child. Now…tell me where this chamber is…"

I looked down at the ground, seemingly ashamed. "Promise you'll keep me safe?" I mumbled.

"On my word as a Roman, you will suffer no more pain. Tell me."

"I assume you have extensively searched my father's house. But I wonder, how well did you investigate our courtyard?"

His eyebrow pricked upward, his mouth slightly open, begging for more. "Under the high statue of the virgin Mary is a passageway that leads somewhere. I've seen my father use it. I've never been down there myself, senator. That is all I know."

His eagerness shined on his face. "How do you open it?" he enquired, his excitement much like a child.

"Press our Mother's praying hands toward you, senator." I stated, willing my lower lip to tremble. Inside I was actually quite proud of myself for concocting such a story. It was actually one I pretended when I was young and bored. Now all he had to do was buy it. And his eyes were already grinning with delight.

"If I may be so bold, senator, how long do you intend to keep me hostage?"

He wasn't even looking at me anymore. His left eye was twitching with thoughts, and he rolled his fingers in a drumlike fashion on his chin. Just then the door opened, revealing that snake, Archbishop Ferdinand. "Titus Sidonius has just arrived."

My stomach felt instantly queasy. If he had made it here than that meant…no….it couldn't be true…

We filed out of my quarters and proceeded to the balcony. Below us at the gate was Titus, smiling delightfully. "Senator, if you will be so kind as to open the gate." he yelled up to us.

By now it seemed both the senator and the Archbishop had forgotten about me. Gallus gave the signal to his guards and raced downstairs to meet his employee. I hurried behind. The front door was opening and Irina was racing towards the front, eager to see her brother.

Upon seeing his face, I felt a hard stab go through my chest. My eyes became dark as a gust of cold whisked through my body. I felt my hidden knife inside my boot beckon to me, ailing to be thrown into the bastard's bitter heart. Patience…I told myself. He will suffer soon.

"All went as planned, Senator. Tell your Emperor the job is done" he stated, as the three of them edged closer. No one took notice of me in the background, tears begging to rush out once more from my worn eyes, the reality hitting me hard. I glanced around. Two guards stood at the door, while a few patrolled the outside. I imagined the traitor, waling into each of their bedrooms as they slept peacefully, gutting them up one by one. Bors. Galahad. Gawain. Guinevere. Arthur. Lancelot. Lancelot….images shot through my head of Titus laughing evilly, sinking his sword deep in his chest. And here I was, the killer right in front of me. I was standing diagonal to the Senator, his back towards me.

Ferdinand smirked and chuckled to himself. "Well done! You see, Gallus, I told you he was the best!"

Gallus nodded while Titus came forward, bowing his head slightly.

Titus looked my way, though he was not smiling in triumph anymore. I noticed his left eye was blackened. Irina came over and gave him a huge hug, with which he returned, though his grip around her seemed light.

Ferdinand chuckled once more. "From your eye I'd wager you met some resistance. Care to explain?"

Titus almost looked fearful, but soon put on a strong face. "A few guards. Nothing I could not handle. I'm sorry to be so upfront, senator, but I am weary. I came immediately to ask for our earnings."

To this Gallus raised an eyebrow, and Irina gave a questioning look towards her brother. Nevertheless, Gallus nodded and sent a servant to acquire the desired reward for murdering my friends.

Titus turned to his sister. "Get your things. We leave tonight." His cold tone made Irina bitter and she first stared him down, then did as he requested. Titus then turned to me.

I decided to speak, though my voice was hoarse with rage. "The stealthy priest who forever changed his expressions and knew far too much on Eastern swords. I should have guessed something wasn't right."

I expected him to smirk and ridicule me, but he did neither. Instead he glanced towards both Ferdinand and the Senator, and then walked towards his sisters' quarters. I lowered my chin, my knife begging to be thrust into his back.

Ferdinand took hold of my arm. "Senator, shouldn't you be keeping your prisoners bound?" he asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Gallus simply scoffed and pointed to a guard to do as the Archbishop suggested. Ferdinand nodded his approval and looked upon me with his head cocked. "Senator, is it strange to look upon this mere girl and wonder how it is that she received such a noble title in Britain?"

Gallus sat down on a cushioned pillow and exhaled loudly. "Not particularly, Archbishop. Her father did school his children, I'm told. She is most likely as skilled as a man. Nicoteles was a fool in that regard. Never give women power, I say. After all, it is from which sin was born from the wicked Eve that all women appear devilish." I contracted my eyes from his statement. They were looking at me and talking as if I were an animal, too dumb to understand what it is that they were saying. My blood boiled within me, my wrath willing to be unleashed. Then I could show them how an animal behaves if treated like one. They knew how to push me to my limits.

"Hmm, you make a good point, senator. You know this Arthur has a round table?"

"Round, you say? Whatever for?"

"Apparently he thinks that all men are equal and therefore a table should accompany those teachings."

"Then we have rid the world of a mad man." Gallus praised.

The Archbishop continued, pacing as he glanced my way. "Yes, indeed. His Sarmatian knights certainly lived up to their names though. In fact, I had to kill one before he spread the alarm of our actions."

Gallus looked up from his seat, intrigued. "Really? Pray tell."

My stomach lurched. I started backing away slowly, not wanting to hear, but found a guard pushing me to sit in a cushion next to the Senator. He smiled.

Ferdinand continued. "Our friend Titus had killed the guards and went to release me from their inhospitable dungeon. Your assassin went one way while I went down another corridor to keep watch. I thought the tonic would have worked by then, but I saw one of the knights pacing around. The drug began to take effect and he dropped to the ground, crawling on his hands. I couldn't risk the chance of him exposing us, so I quietly slipped in from behind. Upon seeing me, the fool tried to yell something, but luckily the tonic hindered him from doing so." I bit my lip, my eyes staring hard at the ground. The Archbishop cruelly continued, his voice boasting. "I bent down slowly and taunted the fool. He was still awake, his eyes wide with rage, I believe. Making sure no one was nearby, I took hold of his arms and dragged him back into his room, which was right next to us. I prayed to our Lord to forgive this pagan sinner, and stuck his own dagger into his chest." He began to laugh. "The Sarmatian was still alive, and barely awake. I wonder if he even felt the pain? Hmmm…anyways, I needed to make sure he died." He was now staring only at me as he talked. "It was so easy I almost felt sorry for the boy. I grabbed his hair, holding up his head. Taking his own dagger I held it up to his neck. A bloody mess, that was. His eyes rolled back as his sins spilt all over the floor. One less filthy pagan."

Gallus looked at him, amused. "Your first kill, I'd imagine?"

"I was simply doing the work of God. Ridding the world of its evils." I couldn't take it. He was provoking me, and he did what he intended to do. I leapt up from the seat and knocked him down.

"Murderer!" I screamed, biting him as my hands were bound. Soon a soldier was upon me, and hit my with the hilt of his sword upon my face. I fell back, my forehead instantly started to bleed. My eyes blurring, I shook my head awake as the same soldier lifted me up, holding me back.

The Archbishop started laughing as he stroked his wounded face from my bite.

"You are no man of God! You are not even a man! You are the devil! A beast that has no compassion for human life!" Still smiling, he punched me in my stomach as the guard held me. My legs gave way for a moment, but the guard wouldn't let me drop to the ground. My nose flared, my breathing harsh.

Gallus held up his hand. "That's enough! Archbishop, I still need this girl for the Pope's purposes. By now Titus and his sister returned, a servant carrying her things. They looked on to our act with surprise.

"Ferdinand, I had no idea of your skills with fighting a defenseless girl, bound no less. You are quite the warrior now." Irina stated, her voice icy with superiority and mockery. He scowled in return.

Gallus had his servant bring forth their reward. As the lavish chest opened, Titus Sidonius and Irina smiled in delight. "I added a nice bonus for bringing the girl back unharmed. I trust you will stay for a rather delightful feast my servants have put together to celebrate our victory. Surely you need nourishment before your journey. Irina looked at Titus, who nodded.

"Lock her in her room," Gallus told the guard, and he pushed me forward, as I kicked and struggled in resistance. Back in my room, I screamed and kicked anything I could find, my rage too powerful to overcome.

"Lancelot!" I yelled, knocking a rather lavish urn to the ground as it smashed into a thousand pieces.

I had gone mad. Absolutely insane with anger. And I continued on like this for what seemed like hours. Finally I was too weary to go on like that, and I crawled into bed. I had to be calm.

Thinking quickly, I knew this was my only chance for escape. My hands were bound behind my back. I bent my spine back, inching my fingers closer to my boots. Upon reaching it, I gained hold of my knife and began cutting the ropes fiercely. Soon I heard the bindings snap and I released my arms forward, rubbing my wrists.

Now all I could do was wait for someone to open the door and thrust my knife through their gut, and hopefully sneak off.

I waited, pacing around the room. Finally, about an hour later I heard soft footsteps approaching. I hid behind the door. The key turned, and the door opened slowly. As a person emerged into the room I shot forward, my knife raised.

A second person quickly kicked my chest, knocking the knife out of my hand as I fell to the ground. I had failed.

I looked up, not believing what I saw. Irina stood by the door, with her brown cloak and hood hiding her identity. Titus held a sword to my throat and put a finger to his mouth, willing me to be quiet.

I had no idea what was happening, and I narrowed my eyes as I let him help me up. "Please, Arria, there is no time for talk. Do you want to get out of here?" he asked, whispering as he gripped my arm firmly. I nodded, figuring I'd at least see what was going on before I slit his throat.

Irina entered the hallway first, then I did. Titus followed behind me, his sword now pointed at my back. I looked down to see a guard dead by the door.

"What is going on?" I whispered, and Irina hushed me. When she got to the end of the corridor, she stopped and peered left and right, signaling the coast was clear. She lead us down a few more corridors, until finally we stopped inside one of the rooms. She locked the door and pulled off her hood.

"Listen to us, girl, and perhaps you will live through the night. Your king is alive, and caught Titus attempting the assassination. He made him a deal, to spare his life and get his reward money from Gallus if he promised to bring you back." Irina kept her voice low. I wouldn't believe it. Arthur was alive? My heart wanted to leap with joy, but so many questions rose through my mind.

"I thought you were loyal to Gallus." I stated dryly.

She smirked. "An assassin is servant to no master. We serve only what benefits us."

Titus whispered firmly, "This Arthur spared me on the condition I swear to bring you back. I may kill for a living, but I keep my word…and he promised me a wealthy compensation…plus the one we just received from the senator…"

"Where is Gallus?"

Irina smirked. "Dead. The fool thought he could have me in his bed."

"What of the rest of the knights? Ferdinand killed one…is Lancelot de-"

Titus cut me off. "All will be explained later. Now, can you promise not to run if I take my sword away from you and give you a weapon?"

I nodded, wishing he had answered my question. But I suppose getting out of this palace was first priority. He handed me a small dagger.

Irina opened the door and we stealthy ran into the kitchens and out a back door. I noticed another guard sprawled out on the ground with an axe protruding from his back. Finally we were at the stables.

"Only two guards remain on the towers by the gate" Irina stated, looking up.

"Actually, first you have to get through me." We all turned around as Ferdinand emerged from the shadows by one of the horse stalls.

"Very cunning of you, Titus. When I saw Irina go into Gallus' quarters I knew something was awry. I never would have guessed you would take the girl, though." His sword was unsheathed and he edged towards us. "Do not worry. The guards have not been alerted. I have a feeling I might be framed for our dear Senator's murder if I linger. So…give me the girl, and be off with you."

Titus held his own sword out. "Why do you need her?"

Ferdinand softly chuckled. "Really, Titus Sidonius, do you care? The Pope requests certain information from her, and only Gallus knows what she said. Now that he's dead, this puts me in quite a mystery. Hand her over and find your next employer."

For some reason, I trusted these two not to give me up. I edged forward towards him. "If you want me, Archbishop, perhaps you should fight me."

He grinned viciously and outstretched his sword, willing me to come. Titus and Irina took this time to unhook their bows and arrows from his bag and take out the tower guards. It was just me and Ferdinand.

"No sword, milady?" he smirked. I raised my dagger, keeping my fist level with my chest as we circled.

"Do you even know how to use one, priest?" I stated, my confidence returning.

"We'll find out now, won't we?" And with that he lunged forward, and I ducked out of the way. A horse whinnied her repulse, and I slashed forward on my knees. The Archbishop blocked my dagger and thrust forward again, swinging from left to right. I parried and plunged my dagger forward as he swerved out of the way. The guards on the gate tower must be dead, because we were now very loud.

He clumsily tried to slice me vertically, and I easily blocked his blow and kicked his chest. He fell backwards into the hay. I threw my dagger as he tried to get up, and it landed straight in his stomach. He cried out in pain, his right hand still clutching his sword.

I put my right heel on his wrist and picked up his sword. "You underestimated me, Archbishop." He looked up at me, spitting out blood.

"You bitch-" he stated. I held his own sword to his throat. Titus and Irina were back, their own swords drawn.

"You have murdered a friend. You have renounced the Lord as your Savior. You deserve death." At this his eyes widened.

"Be merciful, child!" He pleaded. "Your right, I have sinned! Please, forgive me!" I stared at him, disgusted with his charade.

"Perhaps I should recall some of your teachings in the church, Archbishop. 'And shephards we shall be…" He started shaking his head, his fear great. I continued, reciting the speech carried out by priests when those who committed crimes were punished by death in the square. "For thee my lord for thee. Power hath descended forth from thy hand. That your feet may swiftly carry out thy command. So we shall flow a river forth to thee. And taming with souls shall it ever be. En nomine patris, et filiis, spiritus sancti-" I took both my hands unto the handle, and plunged it into Ferdinand's neck. Blood splattered unto my clothes as tears fell from my eyes. My rage withdrew as the priest died, his eyes wide in shock, his mouth open. I shakily lifted the sword out of his body, and fell to my knees. I had just committed murder in cold blood, to a dying man who was pleading with his life. And I did not care.


	11. Forgiveness

Awww, glad you guys liked the last chapter. I'd like to take this opportunity to explain that it may seem like I'm going a bit fast, but in reality this story is more of a saga or series rather than a simple novel, with many villains and characters and time frames. So please, view this more as a tv series because I have too many plots and directions to eliminate them all!

Chapter 11

The next few hours were a blur, as we stole three horses from the stables and headed west along the Tiber River, all the way to the coast. The journey took a full night and day's ride, with no break in between. Finally, when we arrived at seaport, Titus demanded me to dismount as he went inside the harbor man's store. Irina kept her eyes fixed on me with not an ounce of friendliness on her face.

She kept her hand close to her belt where her dagger protruded. "Do not think us friends, Arria. We are simply collecting what is due from your king."

I stared hard back at her, expressionless. "I doubt you've ever had a friend in your life, Irina." To this she smirked and dismounted her horse, tying it up to the pole beside her. I did likewise, patting the mare on her sweaty neck.

Titus returned, carrying three parchments. "These passage papers did not come cheap. Your king better pay well for them."

"I'm sure your compensation will make you quite wealthy, Titus Sidonius." As he handed me my boarding pass, I asked, "Please. Tell me what happened in Britain."

He did not look me in the eyes, only turned to glance at Irina. She narrowed her gaze, her eyebrows furrowing. Finally he spoke. "The ship leaves at dawn. The harbormaster promised our safety if we spent the night in the barnyard nearby. After we have rested and are well nourished, perhaps I will tell you."

"That is not good enough!" I shouted, my temper rising.

Irina thrust forth her dagger by my neck. "You do as we say, girl", she commented, her nostrils flaring in contempt. Titus sighed heavily and started walking over to the stable atop the hill.

After we were given blankets and fruit from the stable boy, I lay atop the hay, glancing at Titus. Irina turned over unto her side, and instantly fell asleep, but not before giving me one last look of scorn.

He lay flat on his back, his arms securely placed above his head in comfortable fashion.

"Please, Titus" I whispered. He glanced over at his sister, who did not turn to shush us. He heaved a small sigh.

"Irina told me not to tell you too much."

I sneered. "And does your sister own you?"

"Irina is elder and has always cared for me. Even if she does hate all the world. We were trained assassins from birth, our father the King of Thieves. It is all I know."

I lifted one eyebrow. "So she is the director of your hired kills. And you obey her."

He gruffed and rolled his eyes. "Do not mock me, milady." He sat silent for a moment, then he whispered, "Back at the armory, you stated that Rome was more so whatever you grasped in your heart, not just a name of power. I respected what you said."

I said nothing, willing him to answer my question. I heard him gulp. "The Archbishop killed the one you call Galahad."

I bit my lower lip, my mouth trembling. I put my hand to my mouth, my head suddenly warm. He looked up now at the barn ceiling. I wasn't so sure he was even speaking to me anymore. "After I released Ferdinand, I headed immediately to your king's quarters. He was sound asleep, with Guinevere beside him. I raised my sword, but his bodyguard, Lancelot, emerged from the shadows and pressed his blade to mine." My heart leaped at hearing his name. But…wouldn't the drug had taken affect already. My mind replayed that night's events. My brain hurt with my own stupidity. Of course! Both Lancelot and the king were too stressed. They did not touch food or drink that night.

He went on. "The king was aroused as I fought off your knight, and he was busy trying to wake up the Lady Guinevere, who was under the drug's influence. Lancelot and I fought hard. I wounded him before Arthur knocked my sword to the ground.

"Is he alright?" I asked, sitting up. I looked over at Irina, who was now snoring rather loudly.

He did not look at me. "I do not know. Arthur sent me as soon as I explained everything to him." He glanced back at me. "Irina did not want me to tell you this for fear you would try to kill us."

"What makes you think I wouldn't have even if I did not know what you just told me?"

He stared me over, his face unreadable and almost vacant. "For some reason I trust you, Arria Gaius. You are honorable." He realized his statement and gruffed again. "Go to sleep, girl. Try anything and I _will_ harm you. And keep your mouth shut tomorrow."

I turned on my side away from his gaze. "Lancelot told me not to believe you. I told him I trusted you, Titus." With that, I said a silent prayer for Galahad, and attempted to try and get a peaceful rest. I soon found that this was an impossible endeavor. Once I gave up trying though, my eyes felt heavy, and apparently for what seemed like five minutes later, it was dawn.

Titus and Irina left me alone in my cabin aboard the ship as we crossed the Mediterranean Sea. It seemed my stomach was not in agreement with the long voyage to Gaul. I considered the option of running away and going by land back to Britain, but it was foolish. The journey would take weeks longer, plus the fact that I'd have to get past Roman, Hun, and Celts along the way. The sea was the quicker answer to avoid trouble, but my stomach voiced its own opinion about that as I leaned over the side of the boat, mildly gazing at the dark water below. My hazy reflection stared back, my hair unkempt, my face impassive.

I came to an odd conclusion that I had knowingly murdered two supposed men of God. My rage had ceased the moment I struck Ferdinand's neck. I thought back to my conversation with Arthur so long ago, as he graciously explained the concept of letting go and moving on. I had my vengeance. Twice in fact, one for my family and one for myself. The honor of my family remains. Hmm, perhaps I am more Roman than I thought.

Finally, after almost two weeks of monotonous lonely sea fare, we arrived in a southern port of Gaul. My queasiness softly went away as my legs once again felt the wonderful sensation of land. Irina kept a close eye on me, expecting me to bolt at any moment in time. From there we were to take a carriage to a northwestern port, about a two day caravan journey. I watched as Irina paid the owner three times as much as the carriage and horses were worth. I did not think it odd, for now word will reach the entire Roman Empire that three fugitives from the law killed an Archbishop and Senator. Our journey had to be cleverly inconspicuous to avoid our heads from being chopped off by the axe of the Emperor.

As Irina went into the market to buy a few goods, Titus kept watch over me by the docks. I paced about nervously, hoping the rest of our journey would be peaceful. Titus sat down on a log and began peeling an apple with his knife, biting into the juicy pieces on the tip of his blade.

"Why is she like that?" I asked, taking a chance. He begrudgingly finished the bite he was enjoying and gulped it down, wiping his face.

"Not that its any of your business…" he began, then glanced at me. He cleared his throat. "I suppose she's bitter and domineering due to father. He was well respected in the thieving community, and one night after he had his way with her she took his own sword and splattered his flesh all over her bed. I couldn't betray my own sister, so off we went." He straightened his back, cracking it loudly. His eyes wreaked of shame and anger. "So you see, Lady Arria, even evil Roman assassins have haunting, pitiful pasts. Are you satisfied with that?" he exclaimed, his true voice rising.

I said nothing, unexpectedly surprised by his truthful answer. But what was even more surprising was my own words that came next. "No, actually. That doesn't excuse contracted kills on innocent people."

He sneered at me, shaking his head. "You will come to know someday that no one is innocent-no one. And since when did you have the right to lecture me?"

That struck a nerve, but I kept my voice level. "You have hurt the ones I care for, and because of you, your sister and that beast of an Archbishop, a comrade is dead. I have much to lecture on. You are lucky I am not a raging lunatic right now, as if any of my friends were in my position, you and your sister would be dragged off the face of this earth with only the fleas to mourn your corpses." I had overstepped my boundaries, and once more he held his knife to my throat.

"You are alive because of my grace right now, girl. Do not push me." He withdrew his blade and sat back down. "No one is innocent, Captain. All of your comrades have killed sons and fathers and brothers, just as you and I have." I picked up a rock and threw it viciously into the water, its force causing a few droplets to splash out by my feet. A few moments later Irina arrived, immediately noticing the tension. However, after slightly glancing my way, she whispered something to Titus.

The caravan journey, in essence, actually took three days to reach the northern port of Jesot, because of a rather obnoxious and icy downpour. No words were spoken. On the third day, perhaps mid afternoon, we reached the hill in which overlooked the Jesot port, and the channel to Britain. Seagulls hovered over our heads, racing each other to the water crying out their hungry calls.

Fate has a funny way of pulling the carpet out right from under your feet just when you learn to walk again. I tried to forget killing the Archbishop. I tried to not dwell on the idea that one of my closest friends was dead, and I most assuredly tried to get Lancelot's devilish grin out of my mind. I just wanted to go home and start anew.

We made it to Rookwood, a southern province of Britain, a few days later. The boatride across the channel had given us very little problems, and it seemed Rome would not send legions after us. This was far more south than I had ever been in Britain, but for the few moments we stayed in one of the villages I attempted to gain as much information I could about the conditions. Perhaps, once my training was fulfilled, Arthur would assign me to make some inquiries near here. The thought of continuing my post cheered me up for the moment, as I looked on to my kidnappers with dismay.

It never occurred to me that my newly acquired skills would be tested once more so soon. In Rookwood we bought three horses (all of which Titus exclaimed Arthur better reimburse him for), and headed down a path toward Archenridge, the province in which Arthur had given Bors authority over, just east to our fort at Hadrian's Wall.

Along the dirt path we came into a small woodland, the path veering to the left. It was midday, and the forest was deathly quiet and peaceful. We were trotting along downhill, with gigantic rocks on either side of us. Not one single bird chirped, and as I glanced down along the path I saw a broken branch laying on the ground. I narrowed my eyes, my mind telling me to be weary. Gawain had explained to me the difference between quiet and too quiet, and this was not a good sign. I halted my horse, turning my head. Titus was behind me, and pulled his horse next to mine.

"Wutsa matter with you, aye?" he gruffed, annoyed by my nervousness. A soft owl hooting sound followed in the distance, and my horse reared his head slightly.

"Titus, we must get out of here! I fear we are being tracked by raiders."

He guffawed in exasperation. "And I suppose you're an expert on the subject, are you?"

Just then an arrow whizzed past his ear, hitting the tree beside him. His mare neighed her fear, as five raiders emerged from the rocks above, holding their blunt swords high as they screamed their attack. Irina kept calm and led our horses out of the path and down the hill as our attackers pursued. Another arrow struck the ground to my left and I urged my horse forward, though the terrain was getting steeper to canter down. I looked back to see Titus, dismounting his horse and holding out his sword for combat. Irina also saw this and kicked her horse back, to help her brother.

I hesitated for a moment. This was my chance. I could escape and never look back, and let the raiders deal with them. Though my heart objected, my mind observed the idea that I too, should go back and rid the world of the raiders before the next unsuspecting riders came along.

I groaned this annoyance and dismounted as well, running upward towards the fight as Irina clashed her sword against one of the raiders, a scruffy giant wearing nothing but rags. Arthur explained that raiders only lived the way they did because of poverty and bad landlords. But once they turned into ruthless murders instead of robbers, your heart should find that it is okay to kill them for their crimes. Titus was battling two males at once, while another two loaded the few arrows they had, unsure of where to aim. I flew myself into the fray, knocking one of the archers to the ground. The other abandoned his bow and rushed towards me, dagger drawn. I swung low with my sword, cutting his legs as he doubled over in shear agony. The other, having regained himself, unclenched his axe from its belt and circled me, smirking in delight, his dark eyes showing no mercy. I heard a scream from behind, but paid no attention to it. He attacked, trying to cut me like a butcher. I jumped and rolled out of the way, somersaulting unto my feet and lashing out with my sword. It clashed against his axe, and he used his force to drive me back, my left foot tripping on a rock in the process.

As my back hit the ground, he cut down, and I had to quickly roll out of the way. His axe hit the dirt, and I used that precious second to kick him with the heel of my boot, forcing him to recede. I got up and blocked his next blow, though he surprised me by bringing out a knife in his left hand, and he sneakily sliced my side as our axe and sword clashed.

I cried out in pain, but tried to ignore it as he used this opportunity to rush at me. This time I ducked out of horizontal swing, which meant to decapitate me, and I shoved my sword into his stomach as he fell. Irina was still battling the giant raider, though blood dripped from her shoulder. Titus has killed one of them, but was getting beaten by the second. As the raider butted Titus against the head, sending him to the ground in shock, I came from behind, unknowingly, and punctured his spine, the sword coming out all the way into the front. I kicked him down and released my sword. Titus looked up at me in shear surprise, his mouth open with bewilderment.

Against my own understanding, I reached out my hand and helped pull him to his feet. But from behind came a terrible shriek, and as I turned, I heard Titus himself shout out in rage. Irina fell to the ground, the raider's sword protruding from her chest. Titus lunged at him, and the raider, his weapon still in his victim, stood helplessly as Titus massacred him, swinging his sword relentlessly on him, blood splattering everywhere. I stood where I was, Irina lying on the ground, surely already dead from the blow. Titus continued to rage on, gutting the raider, slicing his head off, cutting him up limb by limb as tears slid from his eyes. I did not know how react, for to me, the woman was criminal, yet still I felt she had some type of love, at least for her brother, flowing through her veins.

So instead of reacting, I stood there, as Titus sat while took her up in his arms, his face red and sweaty. He hugged her lifeless body, and I could not for the life of me see how two cold blooded murders could care so much for one another.

I retrieved the horses as he sat, and I proceeded to build a fire, dumping the rotting bodies into it except for her. Finally Titus snapped out of enough to take his blanket and wrap her pale corpse in it, kissing the top of her forehead with brotherly affection. He tied ropes around the blanket and put her on top of the spare horse. As night fell, we walked away in silence.

The wound to my left side was still slightly bleeding, but I did not think to stop and tend to it. I wanted home. We walked all night, and finally we made it to a clearing. In fact, I recognized it right away. We were at Harrow's Field, the same field Gawain and Lancelot had taken me. It now made no sense to go to Archenridge, we had lost our way along the forest path and too close to Hadrian's Wall now. Titus stopped ahead of me, dismounting onto the field of wheat, running his fingers through the furry tops of the weeds. It was breezy but not frigid that night. The sky was open to the stars of the universe.It was here that we camped, silently, and as I tended to my throbbing wound with bare elements to clean it, Titus started digging, and did not stop for an hour. I tried to get a few hours sleep, but every now and then I would glance over and see him burying her beneath the earth, taking off one of her rings and holding it tight as he said a silent prayer.

I was astounded when he, still looking at her gravesite, spoke to me. "You saved my life today, Arria."

I didn't think he would ever talk again. I did not know how to respond, so I didn't. He went on, still looking at the ground beneath him. "Irina told me there was nothing good in this world, and that is why I started killing for money. You showed me that she was wrong. I was wrong. Thank you for helping me realize this." A tear slid down his cheek, and I gulped, unsure of how to take this. "Please forgive me for all I have wronged you, and your knights."

Forgiveness? It seemed to me a foreign word I had forgotten recently. Father had always taught me that forgiveness was the only answer, because it was what our Lord and Savior did to save all mankind. But could I forgive a monster of society who has harmed so many?

Before I could think of an answer, I watched with great horror as Titus Sidonius, without another word, thrust his dagger into his stomach, blood immediately escaping his mouth. His eyes widened as he desperately fought to breath, but I swear I saw the trace of a smile seep his lips as he fell to his side, his eyes still open in great thought as his heart stopped beating.

Yes, I could forgive. For even in murderers hides the emotion of love that chooses not to come forth until the time is right. I placed my fingers over his eyes and closed them. He was a confused being that did horrendous deeds, but in the end realized his mistakes.

The sun began to make its way up in the sky as I burned his body, placing the ashes upon his sister's grave. I looked northeast, where Hadrian's Wall was but a day's walk. I sighed and took hold of all three horses' ropes, guiding them home.


	12. Home

Alright….we're finally getting back to the main idea of my story…hahah, took a while. Thank you sooo much for your reviews! Seriously, I forget I even write until I click my email and boom, 8 new reviews a day, haha. Its great! Happy Valentine's day!

Chapter 12

_"Arria what are you doing?" Father called, laughing as I clumsily whacked my stick against one of the many Roman statues in the garden. I turned around to face him, hugging his waist, since that was the highest point of him I could reach. He smelt of the marketplace._

_"Marciana and Domitia did not want to play legionnaire with me" I stated, my lower lip pouting in frustration at my loneliness. _

_He scooped me up as I giggled and lifted me over on his shoulders. "Now why would a lady play legionnaire?"_

_"Because the stuff they play is boring!" I exclaimed truthfully, my nose wrinkling at the thought of learning one of my sister's silly dances._

_He walked me along the courtyard, the center of my childhood imagination. There was a small bench by our immensely decorated ivory well, in which he plopped me down._

_A servant rushed forth to him, and declared the approach of a visitor. Visitors were frequent at our palace, but nevertheless exciting to see. At many times simple peasants visited our household, begging father to represent their various plights in the Senate. This was not such a visit._

_Father took my hand and led me into our main parlor, where a smiling middle aged man waited. Upon seeing the warm and friendly face, Nicoteles let go my hand and embraced his friend. I looked at the two, figuring out they were old friends. I had never seen this man before, but then again, I was only nine._

_I approached the man with caution, curiosity getting the better of me. The stranger noticed me and broadened his smile, his eyes set upon my father._

_"This cannot be your youngest…Arria?" he asked. Father glowed at hearing my name._

_"Tis the very same."_

_He eyed me intriguingly, and I did the same. "My my. Last time I saw you, you were but a babe wrapped in cloth. Now look at what a lovely lady your becoming."_

_To a nine year old, being called this was especially exciting. I straightened my back in importance, immediately taking a liking to him._

_"Arria, this is my good friend Pelagius. He just returned from…well…from the end of the world."_

_Pelagius turned back to my father, raising his eyebrows. "That I did. As far west as is known. Apparently Rome needs the isle of Britain to boast of its large expansion."_

_"And, pray tell, what is it like?" They seemed to forget I was even there, and so, being the curious cat I was, I stayed, taking in every word._

_Pelagius looked distant in the next few moments, thinking of the best way to describe his experience. "There is something special there, Nicoteles. Some secret I have yet to unlock. Its forever mists cloud a deep mystery, one in which God will reveal in His time. I would not be surprised if such an uncivilized land brings forth great things."_

_Father looked both thoughtful and confused, willing for his friend to explain more. But instead, he asked more questions, ones I had little interest in._

_"You were staying with the Castus family I believe?"_

_"Yes. Lucius' wife died while I was there, a most tragic affair involving northern Woads. Their son, Artorius…extraordinary boy…I brought him here to Rome with me until we return in few year's time."_

_"Return? You mean to go back?"_

_"Indeed. It is a land in which you cannot stay away, Nicoteles. If you ever visit me there, you will see its affect on your soul." My father, not knowing what it was like, simply shrugged his shoulders and invited Pelagius for dinner._

It was midday when I stopped to let the horses slurp some water from a nearby creak. I myself splashed water on my face, noticing that this was an unusually hot day for such a misty world. The cool drops soaked into my hair, occasionally sprinkling down my cheek in comfort as I chomped on an apple.

My wound was hurting again. I unhooked the bandage on my side, noticing that even though I had cleaned the wound, it was still bright red and some spots purple, and in the corner a few drops of blood escaped. Apparently I needed work on my cleansing skills.

Though my body loudly protested, I urged myself forward, wanting to make it to Fort Camelodunum at Hadrian's Wall…home. Instantly my mind went back years ago, to when Pelagius boasted of this island. I guess it does have an affect on you.

As the sun closed its eye into the mountains of the west, I found my own eyes drooping with shear exhaustion. I was sweating profusely from my forehead, though it was, I thought, a rather breezy evening. Swaggering left and right as the horses neighed their confusion at me, finally I saw the beloved Wall in front of me. Instantly I wanted to kiss the dirt beneath me with triumph, though I suppose that would be a silly idea.

Without another thought, I began rummaging through Titus and Irina's bags, hoping one of them had my things. I pulled out Dagonet's dagger, to which I sighed and kissed it, and my officer emblem that Arthur had made for me.

A few moments later, I was at the wall, where a guard proceeded to, rather obnoxiously, state my business at the fort. Upon seeing my insignia, therefore taking note of my superiority, he clumsily apologized and had the gate open. I staggered in, the guard giving me a perplexed stare. Was he new? I couldn't tell.

"Do you need an escort?" he stated, looking sheepish at his former mistake. I shook my head, and mounted Irina's mare. The fort was a half mile north of the wall, and there was no way I was walking it. By now all strength left me, and I kicked the horse forward, my left hand squeezing the rope that held the other mares. The constant up and down rhythm on the horse's back made my head bow down, and the creature slowed to a walk. Finally, I made it to the fort.

Upon seeing me, a guard cried for the gate to be opened…I believe his name was Nathan. I strode in, barely awake, aching for a bath and my beloved silk covers to climb into, with big strong arms wrapping themselves around me.The guard had a soldier summon Arthur as I was led inside, passing the village and courtyard.

The stable boy Erol took the horses from me, and I nodded my thanks, knowing they will be well taken care of.

A few minutes went by, and I fought to stand still, my body burning inside. Finally, emerging from the door came my king, my queen, Lancelot, and Gawain. Both an immense sense of joy and sadness overtook me, realizing that it was true what Titus said. Galahad was dead. Lancelot was alive, and for that my heart thumped twice as loud. I took notice of his arm in a sling, no doubt one of the wounds from Titus.

"By God" I heard my king say. Upon seeing me, Arthur rushed up to embrace me, something he's never done. I did not quite know how to react. Doing what came naturally, I hugged him back. When he released me, he looked at with proud eyes, as if I was some lost treasure found once more.

As Arthur stepped back, smiling, Guinevere exclaimed "Arria! Your home!" and wrapped her arms on me like a sister. A winced as she touched my wound, and she took notice. As she hugged me, I stole a glance at Lancelot, whose face was set in stone, as if he did not want me to see his reaction.

"Your hurt, aren't you?" she asked, taking a step back. I simply smiled.

"Let's go inside and I'll explain everything" I stated, wishing I didn't have to. She nodded and put one hand on my back in friendship.

Gawain smiled at me, though his stare seemed distant. "It's good to see you, love." I couldn't imagine what he was going through, and I put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a nod of encouragement.

Once more I was taken into our Room of the Round, my feet guiding me. I let my eyes blink a few times, but shook myself awake. We begged us to sit.

"Do not worry Arria. This will not take long. I daresay you deserve a long rest and a look at your wound" Arthur explained with an air of authority. I forgot how booming his voice sounded. I looked down to see that my wound had opened again, and my cloth was stained with blood.

I looked at Lancelot, who still held the same odd expression. Arthur spoke once more. "Where are the assassins?"

I looked down at the table as Jols brought me a cup of water. Sipping it softly, I closed my eyes. "Dead. Killed by raiders." There was no need to go into Titus' suicide.

Arthur gulped. "I see. And that foul vermon of a man...the Archbishop?"

"Dead." I looked toward Lancelot. "I killed him." I saw Arthur glance at his beloved, as I fought with all my energy to stay awake.

"Titus talked of your kidnapping to a Senator…who was this man?" I did not answer at first, my mind roaming. "Arria? Arria?"

Shaking myself awake, I sipped some more water, my forehead on fire. "That would be Senator Gallus. I'm sure you've had the delight pleasure in meeting him before." Upon hearing his name Arthur froze in a look of murderous rage. I coughed a few times and blinked.

Guinevere turned to her husband. "Please Arthur, she can say no more tonight. Let us discuss more when she is well rested." Hearing her soft plea made Arthur relax, and he nodded.

"Of course. Jols, fetch the healer."

"Really, your Highness, there's no need-" I slurred, beginning to stand. I walked a few paces before the brutal weariness set in, my legs giving way from under me. My head burned, my wound once more piercing me. I think I began to fall, but I'm not quite sure. All of a sudden two arms held my body as my eyes rolled into the back of my head. A hand was put to my forehead.

"For the love of God she's burning up!" Lancelot yelled, and it was then that I realized he was the one who had caught me. He scooped me up, lifting my entire body off the ground, and turned to Arthur. "You should have sent her straight to the infirmary." I saw Arthur nod as a few minutes later I was put down on a soft bed, still awake.

I tried to speak, asking just to go to my room. Lancelot shook his head in protest, though that same stupid expression was still on his face. I didn't like not knowing what was on his mind.

My tunic was cut open as my wound was inspected. "Arria, you should have told us it was this bad!" Guinevere scolded. I groaned my opinion, and let my eyes close.

"I'm fine" I said, yawning loudly. I felt a cool cloth on my forehead, and soon blissful sleep enwrapped its wings around me.

I awoke a few days later, my wound skillfully stitched and my fever diminishing. After a servant let everyone know I was awake, Arthur was the first to visit. He sat on the edge of my bed as I sat up against the board, my pillow keeping my back comfortable.

"I'm sorry about the other day.." he began, looking ashamed.

It was strange hearing an apology from your king. "Your highness, please do not apologize. It is most uncomfortable. It was my duty to tell you everything." Before he could protest my statement, I continued. "Titus told me what happened to Galahad."

Arthur stiffened, and I could tell his heart was still weary of this. "You may go pay your respects as soon as you are fully rested." That was all he was going to say on the matter.

"I suppose Bors is in Archenridge?"

He nodded, scratching his neck. "Yes. About two weeks ago he took Vanora and the children to settle in. He's due back at the Wall in a few days. I sent word of your return. Arria, do you know why you were taken?"

I smirked, knowing the answer. Shaking my head in disdain, I answered his question with repulse. "Apparently Gallus thought I knew the whereabouts of our friend Caelestius." I noticed Arthur slightly raise his eyebrow. "He also wanted something called the "Contra traducem peccati". I guess it was important enough to steal a girl across the entire empire."

"Indeed" he stated, thinking. "I knew Caelestius well. Rome once respected him as a man of principle." He shook his head in indignation. "It seems Rome would do almost anything to squash even a hint of revolution."

"They saw you as a huge threat, Arthur. That is why they sent assassins. Luckily you did not fall for their drugging tricks."

"I am sure we have not seen the last of Rome's assassins either. Men are always looking to fight, Arria. Saving this land will be quite a difficult task."

"I'm just thankful I'm back to help, assuming I still have my post?" I asked, the slightest hint of a smile escaping my lips.

"Well, I suppose a girl who defeated a powerful political figure and escaped the largest empire in the nation might deserve the position." Feeling bold, I once more embraced my king. "It is good to have you back, Arria", he whispered, meaning every word. I received many visitors when I wasn't sleeping over the next two days. Guinevere confined me to my bed, her horrifying eyes widening every time I protested. She could be quite the scary commanding queen when she wanted to be, I decided. What made me unhappy was that Lancelot did not choose to see me. After a long conversation with Gawain, I asked what Lancelot was doing. He shifted his gaze and mumbled something about patrol duty.

On my third day of recuperation I got a rather boisterous visit from Bors, who squeezed me tight and made my ribs crack with laughter.

"It hasn't been the same without your spirit, girl" he stated, looking like a proud comrade. I blushed and nodded, wishing these past few weeks had been but a nasty nightmare. "Well, I'm off to take a piss. But I do wish you'd come stay at Archenridge for a bit. Vanora would be thrilled."

"Oh come off It Bors! You just want me to baby sit all eleven of your kids while you and Vanora rump off to make more babies!"

He pretended to look shocked. "I'm hurt, Arria, I really am. Although it would be nice to have some alone time with my wife…"

"Give them names and then we'll talk…"

"Honestly, why do you insist on naming everything that moves?"

I cast him a sly gaze. "Your one to talk. I've seen you sneak away with Vanora at the pub, telling her 'Papa Bors has come out to play'!" At this he blushed and ended the subject. As he opened the door to leave, I stopped him.

"Bors…have you seen Lancelot recently?" I asked timidly, unsure of how that sounded. It disturbed me the way he shifted his gaze in the same manner as Gawain and stated he was probably off doing something for Arthur.

It vexed me to no end that he had not even bothered to see how I was doing. Could he possibly still be mad over our stupid little scoff the night of the assassination? Unlikely. What was he afraid of? Perhaps he did not have the balls to apologize?

I longed to have him by my side, caressing me in the way he did so well. I had basically only made it halfway across the world because he was in my thoughts. Hell, if he were to walk through that door at this very moment, I would have forgotten my promise of virginity and would have had my way with him, exploring every corner of his beautiful body.

After a while though, these thoughts diminished and I began to realize how silly and desperate I sounded. Of course he had important things to do. And this was Lancelot…the breaker of hearts, the shameful but irresistible charmer. I began to understand why the village girls hated him after he had them in his bed.

But I thought I was different…at least….Galahad used to tell me he's never seen Lancelot act so strange around a girl like when he was with me. I ignored the side of me that said wait for him to come to you. To hell with that. I was bored, I was lonely, and I deserved to know how he was.

Against Guinevere's judgment, I hopped off my bed, and changed into one of my finer silk robes. Applying a bit of lip rouge and rubbing a few oil scents unto my arms, I opened the door cautiously, hoping Guinevere wasn't around to scold and throttle me.

The most obvious place to look for him without getting caught was his chamber, though I highly doubted he'd be there this late in the morning.

When no one answered the knock on the door, I turned to leave, but then heard a light snore from within. Good, I thought. This way I'll surprise him. I creaked open the door ( to which I noticed he hadn't bothered to lock) and snuck a peek inside.

My smile quickly evaporated as I saw Lancelot switch positions, placing his left hand on a rather beautiful but naked girl's stomach, his eyes closed peacefully in bliss. I clenched my teeth together to keep my mouth from dropping open unto the floor, my nails digging into the door. I didn't know quite how to react. Do I scream and shout and thrust my dagger into his heart, or should I simply shut the door, and never open it again?

Instead, I only stared, my mind assured that my eyes were playing tricks. This could not be true- I had spent many restless nights crying, unsure if he was dead or alive. I had dreamt of his sweet lips on mine, I had worried myself sick over whether I would ever see his devilish grin again. And obviously he did not return my silly fantasies. Arria, you are a fool to let your guard down.

I was about to close the door, and clear my head when the girl beside him stirred, immediately noticing my presence. "Out, you filthy eavesdropping wench! I'll report you to the head servant!" she screamed, waking up an alarmed Lancelot. He sniffed through his nose, his eyes blinking to try and wake up. He looked left and right, and then his eyes fell on me. I kept my face smooth, unemotional, just as he had been doing to me.

He stared back, and his expression bore no surprise in the least. It was like looking into a mirror. The obnoxious girl, whom I immediately recognized as the blacksmith's daughter, narrowed her eyes in superiority at me. Lancelot pressed his hand to her chest, willing her to lay back down.

"If she wants to watch, let her watch, dove." he whispered just loud enough for me to hear. The girl smirked and kissed him full on the lips fiercely, her eyes still mockingly looking my way. I shut the door slowly, taking in his cold hearted words.

I could not cry. I had run out of tears on my journey home. I could only stare forward, and somehow my legs took me back to my quarters. I nestled myself under the silk sheets, violently wiping away the red rouge from my lips. I realized then that he had been toying with me this entire time. I was just another wench, one to throw away at will. I will never be so gullible again.


	13. New Faces

Sorry this took so long! So much school work going on right now. Um, yeah, sorry bout the last chapter…not a very good Valentine's day present for yall….but it serves its intended purpose, haha. And believe me, I wanted to kick Lancelot in the balls when he did that too. Well, hopefully you'll still keep reading, there is still a lot to cover in this girl's adventures. Enjoy!

Chapter 13

I could not leave my solitary confinement under my sheets. The next day Guinevere entered to tell me it was okay to roam the fort now, but I blatantly refused. She returned the next morning, with the same proposition, and even threw in going for a light walk outside.

"It's a beautiful day today" she chirpily stated, opening the curtains by my window, the horrible sunlight streaming in. I got up, walked over to the window, and closed the curtains once more.

"Nothing is beautiful" I said, climbing back under my sheets. She gave me an odd look, but decided against pursuing the matter. As she left, I sighed in content, the darkness welcoming. For three days I hid away in seclusion, begging not to see anyone. One night I chanced to look out my window, only to see Gawain and Lancelot drunkenly laughing together in the courtyard as they helped one another walk in a semi-straight line. I closed the curtain quickly in scorn, and took to practicing a few staff routines.

The only time I talked was when I asked a servant to bring water or food, nothing more. Keeping myself occupied, I studied maps not only of Britain but of the world, lands I had never seen before in my life. I did pushups, sit-ups, pulling weights, and so forth. I was determined to be stronger, swifter, and more cunning than ever. I had much to catch up on.

On the fourth day, Guinevere burst through the door, not bothering to knock, right in the middle of my staff routine. I stopped what I was doing, ounces of sweat pouring down my face. I bowed politely to my queen.

"Your majesty, what brings you here?" I asked, a little annoyed, though I kept my voice monotone.

She folded her arms across her chest, her look one of sternness. "And what, pray tell, Arria, are you doing here?"

I turned my back to put my staff away. "Practicing" I replied nonchalantly. Turning back around, I noticed her body movement had not changed, and neither did her expression.

"Do not give me such a detached answer! I demand to know why you are cooping yourself in this cave like a common hen!" I've said it before. Guinevere can be quite intimidating when she needed to be. Luckily, though, I did not care at the moment what her temper was like.

I pretended to play innocent. "I do not know what milady means.." To this she looked like she would slap me back to Rome, but soon her anger died down, and instead her eyes softened. She put a hand on my shoulder in friendship.

"Please, Arria, do not be distant. You are like a sister to me, and I'm speaking now as your friend who cares deeply for you, not your queen. What has happened?"

I looked into her worried eyes, and instantly wished for her to go and think no more on the matter. To tell her that I felt betrayed by a rogue knight who loved no one was imprudent. She would laugh and tell me I was such a fool for taking in anything Lancelot dished out, for falling for the knight that everyone knew was a ladies man, and mostly, for being so upset by his actions. She would comfort me and state how I needed to move on, to forget such a beast of a charmer. Everything she would tell me I already knew, and I did not care to hear these words from her lips.

So instead, I did what came naturally, and lied. "Its silly, my Queen…I just feel very foolish for not noticing the assassination attempt. I should have prevented this. I should have had some inkling that something was not right. Instead, like a common wench I was kidnapped and taken back to the enemy."

Guinevere raised an eyebrow. "And unlike a common wench, you valiantly fought off your enemies and killed them, and crossed the world to come back to us. Arria, we all felt like complete idiots after Arthur was almost murdered, I most of all. But because of you, Captain, these same evils will not be able to go after Arthur again. And you know what, someone else will. We are all marked beings. It is our job to try and protect our king to the best of our abilities." She kept her voice low, her emotions obviously stirred by her own words. Her eyes held nothing but love for Arthur, and his life must be constantly on her mind.

I realized I had brought up a sore subject with my queen, and wanted to take my lies back. Sighing out of her trance, she smiled warmly at me. "Come. The fresh air will do you good." I gave in, only because I did not wish to make her worry incessantly over me.

To my dismay, Guinevere was right. The fresh air was heavenly to my lungs, the sun and light breeze cool against my skin. The queen and I sparred for a little bit, Bors and Gawain watching with delight as two sweaty women battled. A delightful bath followed, in which I stalled, caressing my entire body over and over with soap and oils, never wanting to leave such a sanctuary.

Going to bed earlier than usual the night before, I awoke both refreshed and aching, my muscles as hard as rocks. Most of the staff was still asleep, for dawn was about an hour away. I did a few light stretches, before heading out to the stable. A good morning ride was just what I needed.

The sky was a dark blue, though a hint of yellow lurked across the horizon. Seeing well enough without the need of a torch, I walked across the courtyard, the windy breeze tingling against my skin. I heard one of the horses neighing softly, as a manly voice coaxed it with a soft "shhhh". Furrowing my eyebrows, I silently walked up to the door, not revealing myself to the shadow within.

His back was to me, and I watched as his hand delicately shifted down the mare's neck, the black mare neighing her approval. He pressed his head to hers, sighing loudly as he began to sing softly a tune I had never heard before. Still undetected, I let my left eye exposed, watching in utter confusion. As he whispered words in his own language, I carefully took notice of his clenched left fist, his unkempt hair and sad expression. When the song was finished, he proceeded to brush the mare down, his back still to me.

"There's a girl….there's my beauty…" he muttered to his happy horse, giving her oats for a treat. She adamantly refused, backing up in protest.

"Oh, stubborn today are ya…eh, fine, I suppose you deserve the best, my queen." He pulled an apple from his pocket, as neighing erupted from his satisfied partner. I crossed my arms as a chill went through my spine. The sky was now a mixture of light blue with a deep orange. Looking down in wonder, I decided to prolong my ride and go to the kitchens for an early mealtime, hoping to rid myself of him.

By midday, a servant informed me that Arthur wished to have a word, and I was to meet him in the library after supper.

I found myself extremely nervous for no good reason. I waited in my favorite red chair anxiously, sitting up straight with authority. Finally he opened the door, and I stood up from my seat and bowed heavily. A huge smile was plastered on his face, and he nodded for me to sit once more. It was dim in the library, as the sun was setting outside. Arthur lit a few candles and sat in the chair across from me.

"How are you feeling?" he began, asking in earnest. I blushed a deep red.

"Much better, your Highness. Eager to serve you once more."

He stared at me for a moment, then spoke again. "Guinevere says you've been in quite a rut lately. Is there anything I could do?" The blush deepened on my cheeks.

"Time will take away my troubles."

He nodded. "I see. Well, I'm glad to see you around and about. Guinevere commented that your strength has returned full force, and you seem ready to perform any task given." He pulled out a few documents from his bag and scattered them across the table.

"If you are willing, I'd like for you to take a week long trip with me south along the coastline. I have a few provinces to visit and I want the lords to be familiar with you. Tomorrow you will meet some of your subordinate Riders, and we'll leave a few days later, after you've had a chance to get to know them."

I gulped in my anxiety and excitement, and nodded my head. "Of course, your Majesty. I look forward to it."

He seemed satisfied with my response, but his demeanor soon changed, and he uncomfortably shifted his eyes. "I believe I know why you've decided to shut the world out since you've been here…" My eyes widened in horror. The less people that knew my silly girl troubles, the better. He continued, his look one of pity, something I hated. "He's been distant with me too. And although I agree you have every right to decapitate his head-"

I cut in. "I was thinking somewhere lower.."

He smiled at this. "Be that as it may, give him time. One thing I know about Lancelot is that he's never nervous…and around you, he's nervous. Did anyone tell you what he was like when you were missing?"

I put my head down, extremely wishing for Arthur to drop the subject. "No."

He sighed. "It was pure madness in him, Arria. I had never seen him act out in such a way toward me, toward his comrades…he wanted to hunt down the people responsible and take you home. I….I wouldn't let him…." A look of pure shame crossed his face. "I needed him here. I'm sorry Arria, but I needed him here."

Again, it was silly of him to ever apologize to me. "Sir, please don't. You did what was needed. I would have said the same."

He nodded and continued, his eyes glancing away. "These past few weeks have been ruff on all of us. But please believe me when I say he cares for you."

I found that quite hard to imagine. "And how long, may I ask, has he been taking other women into his bed every night?" Arthur looked away and did not answer. "Your Majesty, my feelings for Lancelot have dissipated, and my soul focus is to be the best Captain I can. Please know that my resentment will not linger, and will not hinder my duties as an officer in your service." Frankly I wanted to tell him to mind his own business and not think me a fool, but obviously I couldn't.

"Well…I'm glad to hear it. Good day captain."

I bowed slightly in tribute. "Good day, my king….thank you." He gave me a nod of comfort before leaving me alone in the dim lit library. I rubbed my temples, clearing away all thoughts and headaches that tried to approach. A good strong ale was needed, and I knew just where to get one.

I arrived at the pub amidst a slew of drunkards and dancing wenches, laughing happily a the silly stunts a few of the soldiers attempted to pull. I had on one of my simple cotton dresses, not at all wanting to feel like an officer of the Round yet.

"Oi! Wench! Fill er up, me dear!" An old rapscallion proposed to me, wrapping one hand around my waist while the other hand thrust his empty cup towards my face. Rolling my eyes, I jerked off his hand and went to the front of the bar, where the owner stood pouring pints of ale to her begging customers.

"Well I'll be, if it isn't Lady Arria!" the fiery red haired Rosy exclaimed. She was two years younger than her sister, Vanora, but just as good at running the pub. I smiled in recognition, pleased to finally see a cheery familiar face. "Aven't seen you for weeks, deary. Asn't quite been the same if you ask me." I looked around, startled to see so many unknown faces.

She read my mind. "Came in a few weeks ago, the lot of em. Says they're here from southern country to serve King Arthur. So far all they've been serving is my ale and my girls."

I laughed and took a look around, surprised by their youthfulness. Two of the fools were so wasted they tried picking fights with their comrades. Another tried to play a game of throwing knives, but almost hit his horse instead. "Pin the tail on the donkey, aye!" he shouted, laughing at his own joke.

"Whoah!" a young voice shouted, barreling into me. I had just enough time to back out of the way as he came crashing down, knocking over his table and ale with him as the bar girls laughed in delight.

Amused, I gripped his hand and pulled him back up to his feet, his expression dazed and confused at his surroundings. "Pardon me there.." he stated, not sure which direction I was.

His hair was a dirty blonde, reaching down to his shoulder in braids. His eyes were big and a bright blue, much like the color of the water back in Italy. He seemed to be around my age, a bit young for a soldier with a lieutenant marking. He finally shook himself awake long enough to smile at me. In fact, it almost pained me to see it. He smiled just like Galahad, full of innocence and youthful energy.

"Are you new here?" he slurred, keeping one hand on my shoulder to stay up. "I would have remembered someone as pretty as you…"

I smiled amusingly. "I doubt you remember anything if you come here every night. Good evening." I bowed slightly, and proceeded to get a pint from Rosy.

Walking over to the only semi-clean looking table, I sat down and began to inwardly laugh at these comical characters. Apparently one young soldier had lost a bet and was in the process of kissing a pig, the pig in turn snorting all over his brown curly locks as his friends hooted their pleasure upon seeing such a notable sight. I laughed along in spite of myself, wishing my knights were here to see this.

"Three cheers for Avery the Pig seducer!" one bloke yelled, as a chorus of "Horrahs" erupted among the noisy crowd.

I gulped down my pint and quickly got another, already starting to feel the effects. A rush of cold ale flooded onto my hair and chest as two soldiers fell off their table in a brawl, knocking away their pints in the process. Furious, I rose up from my seat to the ground behind where the two continued to bare hand wrestle, and was not surprised to see that one of the was the blondie who had almost knocked me over before.

Wanting to teach them a lesson, I caught both of their ears and the wrestling stopped amid whimpers of protest as they slowly rose to their feet in pain, my nails digging far into their cartilage. "I'm afraid boys, that is no way to treat a person quietly trying to enjoy a drink, especially without an apology before galloping into your testosterone filled bar fights."

I let go of their ears, by now the whole crowd extremely silent, waiting for what they might do. The older looking one, a man of a slightly darker complexion and a receding hairline stared me down cold, his eyes bloodshot from drinking. "I am a soldier of Arthur! I will not be talked down to by a mere wench!" He grabbed my left hand, intending to strike me with his other backhand. Before he could, I turned my arm towards me, twisting his hand as I barreled my knee into his stomach. Taken by surprise, he yelped as my fist met his eye, and down he went amid whoops of amusement from the crowd.

The blondie stood back, his eyebrows raised in astonishment. "No more drinking for the two of you tonight. And you'd better clean this up before Rosy has a go at you." I turned to Rosy, tossing her a few coins for the drinks. Looking back, I saw the blonde was helping up the receding hairline fellow, cursing at him in the process.

Feeling quite proud of myself, and a bit looser, I walked back to my quarters, a slight smile plastered on my face, my mood already brightening at the night's entertaining events.

I awoke to a slight headache, thankful I did not completely get drunk the night before. Remembering I had an important day ahead, I began to get dressed in my captain uniform. It consisted of new black leather boots, tan trousers, black cotton tunic, beautifully hand crafted steel breastplate (consisting of a lioness carving), and a exquisitely made red cloak, with my Captain's insignia stitched into the seem. All was courtesy of my lord. I looked good, and my confidence level rose.

I entered the room of the Round, King Arthur already present, along with Merlin and Guinevere by his side. Gawain was standing next to my queen. Not that it mattered much to me, but Lancelot was not present. Guinevere smiled warmly at me, as Arthur nodded his approval of my fine attire. I was announced as Captain Arria of the King's Riders, and I took my position next to Merlin, the Woad who frankly still made me feel nervous at times, though he was the one who had brought me to Arthur in a way.

Torches were lit to make the room brighter, and Arthur made us all stand for a moment. "Today I am issuing under Captain Arria's authority her Riders, to serve Britain and protect its inhabitants from all evil. Jols-" Arthr turned to the door where Jols stood, and his comrade opened it, letting in my new charges.

I was nervous. How would they treat a woman officer? How would they treat me, a greenhorn in the field? As they entered, all questions of that sort were completely obliterated, and I felt my eyes widening in sheer irony.

Avery the Pig Seducer entered first, his eyes playful and not in the least serious looking. Behind him came the blonde, the Galahad smiling blonde whose ear was still red. Three more came out, ones I did not recall seeing at the bar. Horrible knife thrower entered next, actually looking quite engaged. And lastly, my eyes narrowed as Receding hair Wench hitter man came forth, his look still smug as ever. Upon seeing me the blonde froze, unsure of how to react. The others didn't seem to notice.

Arthur spoke. "Welcome, young soldiers of the south. I hope your stay so far has been comfortable and relaxing." A few nodded, smiling, thinking their job was going to be easy. "I will tell you now that bit of relaxation should be hereby banished from memory. From now on, you will work harder than you ever have, train more hours than there are in a day, and learn what it is that makes up a British man. You are my Riders, my soldiers fighting against oppression. You will be my eyes where I cannot see, my voice where I cannot speak. You will treat every man woman and child as an equal-" I noticed wench hitter man smirk at Arthur's last comment.

Arthur continued. "You have come here to rise up the ranks, gain prestige and land, but I tell you now, these are not what make a great British citizen. You will learn honor, courage, strength, brotherhood…and most of all, loyalty. For in loyalty lies a deeper sense of love than you shall ever get from the pleasures of a woman. It is what binds men and lands together in friendship." All were staring at him in awe, taking in his words whole heartedly.

My lord softened his voice, staring at each individual, sizing them up. "Follow me and your life will be filled with danger, for the greater cause of this new land of freedom. If you follow orders from your superiors, learn quickly, and uphold morality, you will soon find yourself in a higher position than you are now." He glanced over to me. "At this time I'd like to introduce to you your Captain, a person who is highly dedicated to our cause and quite the skilled warrior. Your superior was with me at Badon against the Saxons, and assassinated Rome's ruthless conspirators." They all raised their eyebrows in respect, my own eyebrows raising for how good Arthur was making me out to be. Their eyes shifted around, looking for their Captain, never once did they look at me. I felt my cheeks burning red in embarrassment.

"I give you Captain Arria of the King's Riders." He stated proudly, his hand gesturing toward me. I kept my face smooth like stone, though inwardly my organs were turning knots. The blonde's cheeks were red with embarrassment, as was Pig seducer, who by now recognized me. Horrible knife thrower gulped, as the three unknown soldiers gave each other looks of confusion. I stared hard at wench hitter. Though his face was equally stone set, his eyes challenged me, daring me almost to throw him out right then and there.


	14. Obeying orders

Thanks for all your great reviews! I'll try to be more regular with my updates, but spring break is ending and its going to be hard to keep up. This is a short chapter…I don't know if all my chapters will be this short, but I'm too tired to do anymore tonight. Enjoy.

Chapter 14

Certainly this was going to be interesting. After a few minutes of introductions, Arthur led my new recruits and I out onto the training field, where he left me in charge. "You may take it from here…" he exclaimed, patting me on the back and smirking. Why that weasel of a friend! Luckily, Gawain stayed with me, and I turned to face my charges.

They were in a straight line formation. Avery was on the far left, his back straight with respect. The three standing next to him were Remus, Tobias, and Gabriel, all having brown, curly hair, expressing a strong sense of excitement and bewilderment. Next to Gabriel came Wench hitter, whose real name I suppose I'll have to get used to is Gafran, his eyes continuing to stare at me in sheer animosity. That will quickly be rectified. The boy to his right was Aedan, the blonde who had clumsily fallen into me. His eyes were downcast, peering about and noticing Gafran's hard expression. Conall rounded up the group, the drunkard who couldn't throw a knife if his life depended on it….or perhaps it was only the ale that made him miss. Be that as it may, he smiled politely at me, still thinking me some common lady who will make his life easy.

I closed my eyes for a moment, praying that God would give me strength. I felt a tingling sensation rise in my back, straightening my posture as I smoothed my face as stone once more. I could do this, my heart stated. I just needed to show them a person worth looking up to.

"As Arthur stated, I am your Captain now. Please feel free to ask me any reasonable question you like, and I will do my best to answer it. As I am a woman, do not assume me weak as both commander and warrior, or you shall soon face those consequences. I am Arria Gaius, daughter of the great Roman Senator Nicoteles. I stand before you in hopes that through our discipline, honor, and loyalty, we can make a better world, a vision our king so desperately desires. You will be training with Gawain and I to better equip you for the demanding nature this post requires."

My confidence was building, and my voice steady. "I assume you all know how to use the basics. Arthur informs me that you were hand selected from his soldiers particularly for your various skills in weaponry, diplomacy, and tactics. Do not think your post as King's Rider asserts you any position of power. You are under my command, and therefore are subjugate to my orders. Between your hard work and my respect for you, not one sword will be able to withstand our force." They were all paying attention, even Gafran. "A great warrior once told me, 'there's no use protecting the weak. The weak always suffer in the end.' This may be true, but that is why you are standing here before me, plucked from your original posts for a special service to our lord Arthur. To protect the weak and oppressed we must be strong in unity, strong in body, and strong in mind. Both myself and Gawain will teach you all that we know, but it is up to you to see what you are made of."

With that, I ordered them to begin sparring with one another using simple wooden blades, sizing up each one's potential. Gawain approached me and whispered, "Fine speech captain. Although I could have done better…" I peevishly nudged my elbow into his shoulder as he chuckled.

As the next two days wore on, I began to notice each individual's strengths and weaknesses. Gafran was by far a superior swordsman, blocking every blow and quickly attacking back with lightning speed and precision. The only thing that matched his swordsmanship was his cockiness. Both Remus and Tobias were quite the archers, both long and short range. I smiled as each target was shot down with an eagle's eye of accuracy. Neither could wield a sword well, though through practice should be able to learn enough to defend themselves. Conall, I learned, was taught numerous scouting techniques by his father. He actually knew more about tracking than both Gawain and I combined, which excited me to no end.

Avery was a bit more pacifist than the rest. Though quite comical, he was in essence, a healer by nature, being the only one who new which herbs to use for various sicknesses, all the while not a bad axe wielder. Gabriel did not use swords. Instead, he preferred hand to hand combat and knives to slay a foe. He knew which parts of the body, if pressured accurately, could silently kill or paralyze an enemy. His father was a merchant, and while in the far east he learned to use his body as the sole weapon against an adversary.

Gabriel's quiet demeanor mixed with deadly precision made Gawain freeze for a moment in awe. I gave him an awkward glance, and he returned a slight smile, though a hitn of sadness hid behind it. "He's a lot like Tristan, this one."

Finally, there was Aedan. A born leader in my eyes. The others naturally looked to him for praise and respect, even Gafran took some of his advice. He was neither the best swordsman nor the best archer nor the best warrior skilled of any; but in him was an even rarer ability: the ability to make smart decisions under pressure and hold on to the mission at hand. The voice of reason and compassion.

It was hard to believe one could learn so much about one's subordinates in two days time. I did not speak much, giving out orders and every now and then making a few suggestions. None warmed up to me at first, keeping both their distance and eyes away. But I suppose it would take time. After all, I assume my own Sarmatian comrades were not exactly affectionate towards their Roman commander at first.

By nightfall on the second day of training, all were completely exhausted, and smelt like pigs. A new thing I learned was that Avery was always the optimist, cracking jokes to keep up his brothers' spirits. Even I cracked a smile later that night as the rest began to turn in. He came out dressed as a courtesan, with full makeup and wig to top. Needless to say, the men were either too tired or too stupid to realize at first who it was, and he proceeded to flirt with each one of them, raising their eyebrows in lust. That is, all were willing to take her…I mean him…to bed right then…until he lifted up his leg in seduction, and the faces of the men soon turned to mush as they discovered that no woman could possess such hairiness. Laughter and grumbles erupted amongst them as I watched from the end of the corridor.

"Now, my brothers, my title must be Avery the Charmer, Seducer of pigs and men!" Smiling at his antics, I rounded the corner out of their sight. The next morning I was to take a trip with my men along with Arthur west to the province of Duahalaghn, where the Lord Cedric had just recently sworn allegiance to Arthur.

The ride there was a bit restless. Gawain stayed back at the fort, and so I rode next to Arthur the entire time, something foreign to me. I kept glancing back, hearing laughter erupt from my men, wishing I could join in. It began to sink in that perhaps I could not share the comradely I held with my other knights, since I was an older woman with a superior rank. I sighed in loneliness, but soon came to my senses. I was not made Captain to make friends. Indeed, it would be good if we got along, but my job was to protect the innocent, not mope about being lonely and out of place.

Arthur noticed my sigh as I turned back around and he gave me a quick pat on the shoulder as we rode on, our horses trotting side by side. "Give it time, Arria."

"My lord, how is it that you always know what I am thinking? It's a bit uncanny, it is."

He chuckled softly. "As king I have been given special powers from heaven, including the gifts of mind reading and…well….the second only Guinevere can explain." I rolled my eyes. "Plus, even though you would never like to think it true, you wear your emotions on your sleeve. You and I are a lot alike, if you have not already come to that conclusion. We come from the same place, hold the same values, both of us yearning for the approval of others. I may be king, captain, but I still doubt my every action."

"If you doubt your actions, sir, then why do you make them?"

He looked at me as if the answer was obvious. "Leaders make decisions. It is better to make the wrong choice than to make no choice at all. A life of indecisiveness is no life at all."

We both turned around as new fits of laughter exploded from the men, enough to startle our horses. I turned my horse around, pulling back on the reigns to a halt. "Would you kindly lower your voices, lads? The whole isle of Britain could hear your fits of giggling….including raiders."

A chorus of "yes mams" proceeded to follow, though the smirks did not go away. A few moments later loud guffaws echoed through the field, sending the birds flying. Arthur raised his eyebrow at me in warning.

I turned back around to face the men, this time my eyes narrowed in superiority. "I was told soldiers obey orders."

Avery continued to smile, unaware of my seriousness. "Come off it cap, we're just having a bit of fun. No harm done."

It was awkward to be the adult. How did Arthur stand it having to yell at his men when obviously any leader would want to join right in on the fun. I turned to my king, and he gave me a look as if to say 'don't back down. Not yet, at least.'

Looking at Avery, I once more straightened my back. "When I give an order, it shall be obeyed. By force, if necessary." He gulped, and said no more.

Gafran chuckled softly to himself. "Do we have a problem?" I asked him.

He stared at me, raising his chin high. "No, Captain. I was just wondering what exactly you deem a 'command'."

I tilted my head, wishing him to continue. "You asked if we could kindly lower our voices…seems to me more of a request than a command." Silence befell the company, the men looking at one another, wondering what I would say to such insolence.

He was trying to unnerve me, and make me look the fool in front of the others, including Arthur. Well I was done playing.

"Perhaps I will make it more crystal clear to you then, Gafran. When we get to Duahalaghn, you are to stay with the horses while we conduct business with our ally. You will sleep with them, brush them, feed them…from now on, until I deem otherwise, you are our stable boy. And the next time you talk back to your superior officer, your back shall bear the scars from my whip." I faced the whole group. "Riders, move along."

"Shall I cook and scrub your back as well, your holiness?" I froze as he dared speak again. He was dangerously on the verge of making me lose my temper.

"Gafran…" Aedan gruffed, getting in between his horse and mine, staring him down with hostility. "Know your place." Gafran sneered at the taller Rider, but did not dare look at me again.

"Actually, the cooking sounds wonderful Gafran, although I sincerely hope your cooking isn't nearly as bad as your bedskills….atleast, from what the bar maids have told me…still a bedpisser are we? Don't worry, most men who have a penis that small usually experience problems in performance. I suppose that's why you're a decent swordsman…making up for what you don't have aye?" With that, I kicked my horse forward towards Arthur, his mouth agape.

"Carry on!" I barked, hearing snickers roll through the men.

"She certainly told him.." Conall exclaimed.

"Couldn't have said it better meself.." Avery whispered, though it was within earshot.

We camped a few hours later, just in the clearing of a forest. We still had about a two day journey ahead of us, and I assigned Remus and Tobias to go hunt us some food. After a fire was lit, and our bellies full, we laid down to get a few hours sleep. "A bit below the belt, Arria." Arthur said, though he was still smiling.

"Probably. But he deserved it."

"Its what he wanted….still….I rather enjoyed that…"

I sat up. "Happy to hear my king has a sense of humor."

"Its what keeps men young and sane."

"And women."

"No. Women may stay young, but they are never sane."

I was about to retort, but thought better of it. "I suppose we are a mad breed. Goodnight, my lord."

"You did good today, Arria. They'll learn to respect you in the end. And please don't tell Guinevere about the insaneness of the female species. The one thing worse than an insane woman is a woman that nags."


	15. Venturing out

So I was rereading my vague descriptions of all my new characters, and I realized I suck at summarizing what people look like. So instead, how bout I compare the boys' looks and personalities with celebrities? Savvy? Okay, so obviously….Aedan is Heath Ledger in both demeanor and looks…well, a young 18 year old Heath Ledger…anyways, so yes ladies, drooling is a must for this boy. Gafran is a long haired Hayden Christiansen, a guy a bit shady but at the same time has a soft spot. Avery is my Shia Lebouf (sp?), while Conall is much like Dominic Monoghan (Im butchering their names). Tobias is most def Orlando Bloom like when he played Legolas…silent but o so nice to look at (with dark hair). Gabriel has a bit of an eastern look to him, and his quiet but deadly demeanor with a few slick comments here and there resembles a mix of Johnny Depp/Tristan, if you could envision that. Remus…well, he doesn't really have a large part, but sure why not, lets make him look like Kevin from the Backstreet boys with longer hair. (wow, random…you may have trouble envisioning some of these…but whatever, its fun). So ok…they are young…hot…and mischievous. Enjoy.

Chapter 15

"Your Majesty!" The Lord Cedric proclaimed, bowing whole heartedly to his king. He nodded his head to the rest of us as Arthur explained who we were. I was happy to note that he did not flinch when my title was revealed. Instead, he smiled wide, though uneasiness lurked behind his mild demeanor. He was of middle age, with a brown decently cut beard, his hair braided back from his face.

"Lord Cedric, it is good to see you. I have heard nothing but great things from your people." The governor sheepishly blushed slightly, attempting to be humble.

It was true. The night before we had ridden in, talking amongst the commoners before we met their Lord, and all held praise for their governor. Arthur whispered to me that it was a rare thing for an official to be liked, even rarely for the public to admit it before badgering the troubles they had. And even this seemingly content village had troubles, as the Lord was all to eager to tell.

He beckoned for us to talk over a feast, and my was it a feast. It seemed his province had been quite prosperous the past few seasons, with no drought or Saxons to bother them. Instead, we soon discovered what truly scared him.

"The Irish", he began, taking a bite out of his chicken leg. "We have yet to be plundered by these savage warriors, but I have heard the stories. They are beginning to venture farther inward, getting a bit cocky. Word is most of the village ports west of here have already been raided and pillaged. The bloody Irish are smart enough not to stay in one spot for too long though. Its hard to say how many are currently on the isle of Britain, it is. But I was hoping, my king, if you could spare any well trained soldiers? The guards we have are well equipped to deal with a few raiders and troublemakers…but I fear an Irish incursion beginning, my lord."

I looked over to Arthur, but could not read his expression. He was tapping his index finger on the table, in thought. "Very well, Lord Cedric. One of my Riders shall hasten back and deliver twenty men to your service. In the meantime, we shall visit these plundered villages and see what needs to be done. You are a fine governor, Lord Cedric." The two shook hands as the feast proceeded on.

As we went to our quarters to settle in for the night, Arthur requested a word. "And whom are you sending back to the Wall tomorrow?" he questioned.

I thought for a moment. "Remus."

He raised an eyebrow, testing me. "Why?"

I gulped. "Well, Conall is the fastest rider, but I will need his tracking skills if indeed we do come across these Irish folk. Avery would have been my next choice, but seeing as how he's our only healer, that wouldn't quite do. Tobias and Remus are my best archers, so sparing one, in my opinion, is the best way to get the job done fast."

He raised his eyebrow at me. "Arria I do believe your learning far too quickly for your own good."

I beamed, surprised by his praise. "Due credit goes to the men that trained me."

"I hope I could include myself in that list…"

"Your Majesty, you are trying too hard for a compliment…"

He scrunched up his face. "I suppose I am." He sighed in wonder of himself as I rolled my eyes. "Perhaps you should check on your stable boy aye?" Arthur said with a twinkle in his eye.

"You mock my punishment."

"No, no. A fitting one….a creative one. Most definitely a punishment bestowed by a woman."

I narrowed my eyes. "I suppose you think I should be scarring the boy instead?"

"Not at all, captain. Do as you deem necessary."

I crossed my arms. "I intend to. Goodnight, my lord." I exited the corridor and began tracing my way outside the building and through Lord Cedric's courtyard, where two guards were concentrating heavily on a card game. Upon entering the stables, I noticed Gafran stroking his horse, soothing her with his calm song in a language I had heard once before.

It reminded me of seeing Lancelot in the stable, the same lyrics flowing from his tongue. That same sad tune. "I did not know you were Sarmatian." I spoke, announcing my presence. Gafran slowly turned around to face me, dropping his brush into the bucket as the horse neighed.

He opened his mouth quickly, I assume to retort some indecent one liner, but he thought better of this. Instead, he softened his expression, though still looking completely stiff and detached. "My father was one of the Sarmatian knights posted here in Britain."

I titled my head in confusion. None of the other knights ever mentioned this to me. He seemed to read my expression carefully. "The reason you haven't heard of him was because Arthur had him exiled."

I was about to ask why, but common sense told me he would not answer. Instead, something else was on my mind. "That tune…I've heard it before…what does it mean?"

His cockiness returned once more. "What is it to you aye? How bout we strike a deal. I'll tell you what it means if you let me off the hook of this stupid stable boy matter. Do we have an accord?" He titlted his head back in triumph.

I merely gave him a stone set face. "Gafran, let us get one thing straight. I am your captain, your superior. You will learn to respect me, and that includes no bargaining for the punishments I bestow on your behavior."

Once more, it looked as if he would retort a comment, but he held his tongue. "Very well. I suppose your commanding me to tell you what it means now?"

To this I actually smiled. "No, I am not commanding you. I was just curious, but it is your personal business. I hope by now you can learn to distinguish my commands from ordinary questions."

I actually think I saw the corner of his lip lift up a bit. "Perhaps I can. I suppose you will give that scary look every time you command something."

"Scary look? I don't look scary."

"Will I get in trouble if I argue the point?" he questioned honestly.

I couldn't believe it. Wench hitter had actually made me chuckle. "Just know when I'm serious and when I'm joking, okay?"

He turned back to his horse. "I didn't know captains could joke." The horse neighed a few times as he once more picked up the brush to her delight. His back was to me when he said softly, "I'm sorry about that night."

He had caught me off guard. "Excuse me?" I asked, slightly confused.

He flashed a gaze towards me, then back to his mare. "That night at the bar. Aedan told me I went too far."

I folded my arms. "Gafran look at me." He turned around, embarrassed for being vulnerable. "You should never hit a woman, any woman. Did you not learn this before Aedan explained this to you?"

Again, I think I hit a nerve, because his embarrassed red cheeks soon twisted back into its mocking form. He did not like showing any form of emotion. I turned to leave out of frustration, when he whispered these words: "It is not a song usually sung in public….

_Sun of morning, star of night _

Tis for the best that moon shall die

Bleeding earth, o hear my cry

In shadows let me lie

In shadows let me lie

For heaven sees not my plight…" He finished singing, looking down the entire time. I let the words sink into my heart, not knowing quite how to translate their meaning. I nodded my thanks, and left the stables, unsure of what had just taken place. Gafran was sure to be trouble, but perhaps there was hope that all was not lost within his soul. It was in these thoughts that I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke to the sound of "Bloody hell!" erupting from the room directly across from mine. I flung off my sheets and opened the door of the other room, and upon seeing what was inside, I couldn't help but desperately try to contain my laughter.

Conall was covered in bird feces….how it had got on him, I had no idea. He looked up at me in horror. "Captain…" he sputtered to say, a few droplets escaping his mouth. Laughter burst through the doorway as Avery and Tobias stood a few feet away from me, their faces red with amusement.

"Sorry Captain.." they managed to squeak out at the same time. "You see, yesterday Conall made a joke about…"

I held up my hand. "I don't want to know…all I know is that he better not smell like this the entire ride back." I noticed Gabriel leaning against the wall, silently slicing an apple as the corner of his mouth twisted into a slight smile. As soon as I shut my door once more, I heard a loud thud as Conall screamed his threats of pissing on them while they slept or slitting their throats the moment their backs were turned.

My favorite was when he exclaimed, "By the time I'm through with ye, no woman will ever bed with ye again! You won't be able to produce an heir!"

After snatching an apple from Lord Cedric's kitchen, I headed over to the stable, where Remus was saddling his horse. I handed him his bag as he mounted up. He nodded his thanks, still a little nervous around me. I smiled.

"Know what to do?"

"Yes sir…er…captain….that is, reassign the men you wanted here." As he was speaking, he pulled back his long brown curls and banded it together.

"God speed." I said, patting the horses back. He nodded, and kicked his horse out of the stables and passed the courtyard. Gafran was in the next stable, mucking out some of his mare's leftovers. He hadn't said a word the entire time. I thought for a moment, then shook my head at my own folly. I was such a weakling.

"Gafran, go to the bathhouse and take a much needed soak. After that we leave…you are no longer stable boy." His blue eyes widened in confusion, he was probably laughing at me. Arthur was right. I was horrible at giving punishments…this was a stupid one anyway.

"Well? Don't just stand there!" I practically bellowed at him, my hands tightly places over my hips in annoyance. He muttered his thanks and proceeded to follow my directions.

We left Lord Cedric's house a few hours later, thanking him for his hospitality and promising his new soldiers would be arriving by the end of the week. Arthur told us we were to ride west, to the village of Raedun, about a day's journey. During the excursion, I rode with Gabriel, who surprised me with countless stories of his various teachers of combat in the far eats, describing to me different puncture wounds to use and stances. He would make a great assassin.

"Did I tell you the blonde bar maid is with child? My child, that is." Conall exclaimed to Tobias, who whooped his delight.

"Better hope the kid gets his mother's looks…" Avery muttered to Aedan. Conall narrowed his eyes at his comrade.

"Are you to marry her now then, aye? Settle down and such?" Tobias asked earnestly, though Aedan and Avery looked at each other, knowing the answer already.

"Course he ain't!" Gafran said with superiority.

Conall raised his eyebrow. "And how would you know Gafran?"

Gafran chuckled. "Simple really. Number one, you don't know for sure if the child's yours…" Everyone laughed. "And number two…what's her name?"

Conall was stuck. "Name? Name…of…of course!…Its Julia."

Aedan looked on sadly as his friend, shaking his head. "Margery. Her name's Margery, Conall."

"Poor kid. If his dad's as thick as this one, he won't stand a chance…." I broke in, eavesdropping on their conversation. They chuckled a bit, then the laughter died down.

"So great Captain, do you ever plan to marry and have kids like a normal girl?" Avery battered.

"If all men are like you, I shall fear for my children's intelligence" I retorted. Hours passed, and the sun began to fall into the rising night sky. He had reached a clearing, with about a mile of wheat fields to travel before the man made road to the village began amidst the trees.

"Conall, ride ahead. Tobias, go with him" I commanded, my tone steady. By now the sky was as black as my horse, with thousands of stars peering down on us in curiosity. Arthur trotted up next to me, and I stopped my horse, my men doing the same.

"I see you dismissed Gafran's punishment."

I looked left at my commander. "Yes milord. I did." He said no more on the matter. He merely shrugged his shoulders as we waited for the two to return. After about fifteen minutes I furrowed my brow in thought, unsure of what was going on. They definitely should have been back by now. I squinted my eyes forward, lighting a torch to see in front of me. Scanning the fields….there. At the end of the tree line I saw two shadows on top of their horses, galloping back to us as fast as possible.

"Arthur…" I called, sensing trouble. He looked over to where I pointed. The two shadows were now being chased by five more.

"To arms!" He shouted, wielding Excalibur out of its sheath, and I did likewise. All of us kicked our horses forward across the field, unsure of what to expect. We could hear the yelling of Tobias and Conall, coming closer and closer, their pursuers closely behind. Upon seeing us though, the five shadows slowed down their horses, and began to race back into the forest, out of sight. We slowed down as Tobias and Conall cantered back to us.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, just as Arthur shouted, "What happened?" Gabriel had his arrow pointed towards the trees, just in case.

Conall took a moment to breathe and wiped the sweat from his brow. "We had the delightful pleasure of meeting our Irish fellows. They, however, did not seem pleased to meet our acquaintance…"

Tobias jumped in. "They came out of nowhere…ghosts really…couldn't even hear them approach until it was almost too late.."

Arthur raised his eyebrow. "And they just attacked you out of the blue? Were there any more than the five we saw chasing you?" Tobias looked to Conall for an answer.

"Four more hid in the trees…I expect a whole brigade of them are nearby. They seemed to be a scouting party" Conall exclaimed, pretty sure in his answer. Gabriel signaled to me that nothing stirred within the outskirts of the forest. Our new enemy was gone.

I turned to Arthur in thought. "Well, seems Lord Cedric was telling the truth. What do we do now?" To answer me, Arthur kicked his horse east of the forest, the rest of our party following without question. He rode southeast for about an hour before answering me.

Stopping and dismounting his horse, our king stretched out his arms before beginning to unhook his bag and saddle from his cocoa colored mare. "We rest here for a few hours" he said to all of us, not looking at anyone in particular. "In the morning we shall see how many of our friends invaded."

We did as our king commanded and set up camp. Luck was not on our side, as furious rain began to fall from the heavens, soaking us thoroughly and disturbing our slumber. It did not help when the wind blew the rain even harder, whisping it in every directions so that there was no escaping it. It was several hours before my prayers were answered and the rain stopped.

The morning arrived with the absence of the sun. Instead, an eery fog surrounded us as we tried to track down the invaders. Conall did his best, looking at the damp grounds for signs of footprints or snapped branches, but the rest of the morning was spent in a vain attempt. Frustrations rose as we plowed through mud, our horses not being any more optimistic than their sulky riders.

Conall stopped up ahead, signaling Arthur and I to come quietly. We did as told, and peered through the rocks he was looking at seconds ago. There they were. A small party- maybe twenty men total in the small gorge below. Time for the fun to begin.

I spanned out the men, placing Tobias near myself as he picked up his bow. The arrow let loose on my command, striking the unbeknownst man nearest us in the leg. His wailings quickly alerted the others, all rising to their feet, swords drawn in readiness. Avery let loose another, piercing a rather chunky fellow in the side…not a deadly blow. I wasn't a cold blooded murderer, after all. The idea was to hit as few as possible, and hope the rets will surrender. After another arrow hit what seemed to be the band's leader, the others began to worry, looking up into the misty treeline.

"Tis ghosts!" One buffoon screamed, dropping his sword in terror. Though no others voiced that sentiment, their tension was easy to see.

"Alrighty then, ye've had yer target practice….now fight like real men! Show yerself!" A middle aged, red haired axe wielder exclaimed, unsure of where to look. I smirked in my own cockiness, walking downhill slowly into eyesight, Tobias right behind me with his bow raised.

Upon seeing a woman, even more uneasiness swept through them. "Tis a witch, it tis.." one mumbled.

The red haired man raised his eyebrow, but said nothing. He was gripping his dagger tightly, but did not bear the same uncomfortable gaze as his comrades.

"Listen, Irishman…I am Captain Arria of the King's Riders…King Arthur of Britain, that is…and you are trespassing on our soil. Last night my men were chased down by yours, and I've come to rectify your mistake."

A few of them chuckled, while the others looked to Red Hair for orders. He stared me down. "I was under the impression your king was a just man…yet he tries to shoot down my men?"

I kept my voice steady, not letting him see my expressions. "Do not mistake a just king for a foolish one who lets savages plunder villages and kill the innocent."

His upper lip rose in a semi smile, his chin lowering as he took a step closer. "Savages are we? That hurts, me dear. We are but humble men trying to feed our families..surely you can understand our plight?" He subtly looked left across the gorge at something, and my eyes narrowed in confusion. I looked his men, who all seemed to be calm and steady, unlike a few minutes ago. He was buying time by distracting me.

"Arria!" Arthur shouted from above, and I dove under just as an arrow flew past me. Tobias was quick with his bow, and an unknown assailant fell from a tree to my right. Red Head and friends now screamed their charge, and came at us full force. Conall and Gafran emerged beside me, swords drawn. I looked upwards towards the trees as the mistiness cleared, revealing a few of the Irishmen charging Arthur, Avery, and Aedan.

I raised my sword, strangely calm. One of the raiders lunged forward, and I easily blocked his thrust, clashing my sword against his. I took on the offensive, swinging low for his legs as he parried. Keeping my legs balanced, I maneuvered right, leaning down on my right knee and propelling upward with my sword in a jabbing motion. He barely deflected it and lost his balance, backing up down the hill. I took this opportune moment to thrust with my blade while kicking forward, the man tumbling to the ground. My sword finally pierced his chest as he lay flat on the ground, as my next attacker came.

Less than five minutes later all twenty of our foes were dead, the rest of us emerging with only scratches. We had managed to squeak out from on of the scum that parties like theirs were materializing all over western Britain, and soon the Irish would take over our northwestern half for their own gain.

"Irish in the west…Saxons resurfacing in the south…sounds like we're going to be pretty busy, Arthur" I said, wiping drops of someone else's blood off my face. He sighed, looking around at our dead enemy.

He ignored my comment, at least for the moment. "Well, you've experienced your first battle as captain. Not a bad outcome, I must say. First reasoning, killing by force…getting useful information while your at it…I didn't even need to come on this trip, seems you and your men will be quite alright without me." I looked over at my warriors, some wanting to drop dead from sheer exhaustion, others gripping minor wounds.

After a few more visits to nearby Celtic villages to make sure everything was in order, we began to make our way back to the Wall. We had been gone for two weeks.

"My first battle scar!" Conall exclaimed, excited at the prospect of his arm bearing a small cut.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Yea sure, the ladies will be lining up for you to bed them with that", though in my opinion he looked quite boisterous over his own wound.

"Sad to think you need battle scars to win the hearts of females, Conall. Some of us get our fair ladies with sheer beauty". To make his point clear, Avery ran his fingers through his hair in passionate fashion.

"Boys, when will you learn.." I piped in as all eyes turned to me. "The way to a woman's heart is by the length of his sword."

"Poor Tobias…" Aedan said, looking pitifully at his comrade as the others laughed good naturedly. "Seriously though, cap…will you reveal to us lowly men the secrets of the female species?"

I thought for a moment as we rode forth. "No…your mind cannot possibly comprehend the vastness of our varying emotions and intellect…" All of them looked at each other.

Gafran shook his head. "Women…"


	16. Dreams

Author's Note: I'm really sorry if I'm making this story long and drawn out with sooo many new characters and names and plots; but I just feel like there arent many stories that keep going and deal with new storylines, and I like them. Hopefully you all will still like and read this story if I can update on a regular basis (sorry, college papers suck). I love input, so please, if you don't like the directions I'm taking or characters Im making, please inform me! Other than that, enjoy!

Chapter 16

"One of the first and foremost principles is to always protect yourself. Never travel without some type of weapon, never sleep with both eyes closed, never trust anyone". I looked up at my trainer, blinking.

"A bit paranoid, are we, Lance?" I exclaimed as he broke into a smile. Gawain shook his head, continuing to practice his knife throwing with Galahad.

"Stop feeding her crap, Lancelot. Teach the girl something useful, like how to aim your piss square in the face on an enemy as he's down. Now that's skill" Bors exclaimed, patting the back of his 11th child as it tried to burp.

Lancelot simply replied, "Not all can possess such talent as you, Bors." He turned back to me, attempting to look serious. "If your going to be Captain, your going to have to learn to control your men."

I folded my arms. "Are you calling me a softy?"

He blinked twice, not answering.

I bit my lip as my head nodded. "Alright, go on then."

"Men will not respect you if you let them walk all over you. You have to be firm. Keep your face one expression, your voice steady and powerful. Oh…Arria, always keep your chin up in superior fashion….you are Roman, are you not?" To make his point clear, he placed his finger on my neck and lifted my chin up for me, like a baby. I kept my mouth shut, though my eyes should have given away my playfulness as I pretended to sulk.

He took notice, and looked behind to see that Bors, Galahad and Gawain were no longer watching our little teaching lesson. He turned back to me, and with his hand still placed on my chin, gently pressed his soft lips to mine.

As he broke away, I whispered softly, "Does this count as letting men walk all over me?"

He placed his forehead against mine, his cool breath freshly blowing onto me. "Don't worry about me. Tis not my respect you are trying to gain, for you already have my admiration." He closed his eyes and kissed me once more, this time with greater force and passion, leaving me with the yearn for more. Damn he was good.

I woke up, rubbing the sweat off my face with my tunic. We were to be at the Wall within a few hours…and I vaguely realized that I had took my mind completely off Lancelot the entire trip west, that is, if you don't count that silly dream just now. I looked over to see that my men were still asleep, including Arthur. Groaning, I lay back down, tossing over on my side as my eyes closed in frustration. Sleep would be hard to get now.

Finally, we wearily reached our destination: home sweet home. For once the sun was brightly shining, unlike the usual misty air that covered the fort. I retired to my quarters, intent on sleeping the rest of the week away. We deserved it.

As I passed by the corridor, I saw Bors emerge from Gawain's room, his face obscurely bright and cheerful.

"Arria! Your home!" He shouted delightfully at me and proceeded to engulf me in a huge bear hug from which I could not breathe for a few moments.

"Come from the bar I see…"

He chuckled. "Just heading there, along with you."

"Oh, no Bors, really, I need to catch up-" I tiredly tried to explain. He would have one of it.

"Come now silly girl, is that the way to congratulate the soon to be father of a dozen kids?" His eyes were dancing with glee, and I found my own widening in complete surprise.

"No! Vanora? Again? Bors you old dog!" I embraced him again and, against my body's cries, went out to celebrate. I suppose rest would come later.

I found everyone to be there already; apparently news like this travels fast, but then again, amongst men any excuse is cause enough to celebrate with a little ale. Rosy greeted me with a smile before she returned to her rather flirty conversation with Gawain, to whom I raised an eyebrow. Aedan was with Remus and Tobias, laughing probably over the many tricks they pulled on Conall, as his own face was looking sullen. Avery sat with Gabriel, as many soldiers gathered round watching their drinking contest with delight. Gafran sat with a wench on his lap, looking on silently. Bors and Vanora were in the corner, engulfed in their own love. My body froze when I saw him, his back to me as he sat gambling with Jols and a few villagers. Obviously I knew I would be seeing him once more. It was impossible to ignore him forever. But for a moment, a quick moment mind you, feelings I had once felt (for what seemed like ages ago) returned, my head feeling light. To suppress it, I simply clenched both my fist and teeth and sat at a nearby empty table, calling one of the girl's over for some ale.

I discovered this would be harder than I expected. No matter how hard I tried to focus on everyone else, my eyes wandered back over to Lancelot, wondering if he had seen me. Be strong Arria. You are not worthless.

"Captain!" Aedan called, coming over to me. At that moment Lancelot turned round my way, and our eyes locked for what seemed like eternity. I kept my face smooth like stone, not allowing him to witness any expression. Hopefully he will know I am quite over him. For a moment, he looked as if willing to get up, but quickly decided against it and turned back around.

I looked back over to my lieutenant, who pulled a chair next to me. "Thought you would be asleep by now." He had his hair down for once, his blonde curls bouncing around, exemplifying his excitement.

I yawned. "Indeed, that's what we ALL should be doing. But I suppose drinking until you can't piss straight is more fun." He laughed at my sarcasm, flaring up his hand in the air to request more drinks.

"Are you glad to be back?" He asked, his eyes already a bit bloodshot.

At first I was too distracted by a loud laughter to answer right away. Gawain and Remus were in a knife throwing contest. "What?" I asked.

He laughed and whispered the question again in my ear. His breath made my ear tickle, and I giggled because of it. "Yes, quite. Tis a hard job taking care of a bunch of wee babes on the road." I gulped down my third pint in seconds, feeling a rush of excitement. Perhaps I never mentioned my low tolerance levels, but I was already starting to feel the effects. I'll show Lancelot I can still have fun.

"Yes, Avery can be quite the handful…" he exclaimed, just as Avery himself fell off his chair, too drunk to sit straight.

More drinks were brought, and by my fifth pint I was no longer tired and stiff, but lively and dizzy. I joined in as songs were sung loud and off key, and laughed merrily as people raised their cups to Bors and Vanora.

After an hour parties began to break up, and though still intoxicated I found myself yawning more and more. I raised my hand for another round, but a hand caught my arm in the process.

"That's enough for one night Captain. Time for bed."

I pushed his hand away, annoyed by his authority. "But I was about to serenade the men…."

"And thank the gods I stopped you.." He smiled and placed one arm under my shoulder, helping me walk back to my quarters. I staggered about, not minding the help, and actually looking forward to passing out on my pillow. I knew the worse feeling was yet to come.

As we neared the main hall inside our fort, I was filled with a strange urge and, grabbing his hand, I took Aedan down an askew stairway, with only a torch light to guide us as we swaggered. "Where are we going?" he questioned with a note of amusement.

"Be silent when your superior commands it-" I stated, my mind fully alert and coherent. At last we entered the room, a room I had not visited in quite some time.

"Giving me a tour of the armory, I see." he quirked, a bit uninterested. I looked at him with expulsion.

"This armory holds the history of battles fought and lives lost to defend this island. Would you scoff?"

Once again, he gave me the smile that reminded me of Galahad, and I could not help but sigh in sorrow. Seeing the sudden distraught look on my face, he looked to the walls, walking along as the weapons shone their stories. "Most women get giddy and inappropriate when they've had a bit too much libation. I should have known you instead would voice your convictions of morality and history."

I put my hand against the wall to keep from falling to the side. "Am I so different?" I asked, though it was more a question to myself than to him.

At first he didn't respond. He just stared, unsure of what to say, his lips slightly parted. I gazed about uncomfortably. Seeing this, he turned back to the wall, looking at the marks and colors on the various shields. "See this shield?" He pointed. "The one with the swan? This is my father's land. The province of Cum Dunaigh. Soon it will be mine." I walked over, and stood next to him as he looked on in anxiousness. The dizziness was leaving me.

"My lieutenant is to become Lord? I must say, I have lacked in the knowledge of my men's lineages. Tell me of your heritage, Aedan. You are of this land, that much I know."

He sighed, his expression unreadable. "Yes, I am of this land. My British family is far older than most, more than two centuries, I'm told."

"Why the swan?" I burst out, not being at all polite. The rum was making my tongue quite pert. "I would think, based on your skills as a warrior, the family symbol would be more…ferocious?"

He chuckled a bit as he crossed his arms in thought. "The swan represents wisdom, nobility, and grace. None I posses to be sure, but I suppose I like being different from the many lands who sport a lion or bear or some other fierce animal. After all, if all clans wished to be portrayed as vicious warriors, Britain should be named a savage land indeed."

I raised an eyebrow, quite content with his answer. "Looks like I'm not the only one who voices philosophy while intoxicated."

Aedan walked along, occasionally recognizing a few banners, including the families of Remus and Tobias, who were both British as well. Conall, it seemed, was half British, half Irish. "What of Gafran?" I burst out, quite rudely as he was about to say something.

Aedan's warm demeanor faded, and he shied away. "Surely someone else might tell you. It is not my place." I could tell he did not want to speak more on the subject, but I was feeling anxious.

"Please?" I asked sweetly, something I haven't done in years. My training as captain and leader has made my voice quite deeper, and it was weird to hear it rise up like the bar girls.

"His father was a Sarmatian knight posted hear along with your friends." That much I knew. It was all I could get Gafran to say to me that night in the stable. The night he sang that piercing song. Aedan continued. "He never knew his mother. She died giving birth to him, and he was sent to live with his uncle…his mother's brother, down south in Glencarson. Arthur had him brought back a bit after you came to Britain, I think. Wanted to make him a Rider." He had kept his voice low and monotone, almost fearful as if someone were listening.

"What happened to his father? I heard he was exiled."

"Yes…yes, you see, his father Ronan was a very arrogant man. He was a young hot head according to Gawain…nobody quite liked him. In the second week here Gawain said Ronan had an eye on the Lord of Glencarson's sister Fainne, when they visited here. Couldn't keep his eyes off her…and, later that night, he couldn't keep his hands off her…against her will." My eyes shot wide open, unable to process it all. "He claimed she was willing, but she denied it. Arthur was furious. The Lord Cormack, her brother, wanted him killed immediately. Arthur refused, and sent him into exile. It was quite the local scandal, and everyone took pity when Gafran was born. They say Lord Cormack didn't even want to keep the bastard nephew…one time, I went to visit their province with my father, and I overheard Lord Cormack screaming at Gafran…telling him he'd never amount to anything, never be anything more than…" he lowered his voice even more, completely embarrassed. "well, nothing worth repeating."

I had no idea…and my look just then conveyed that much. I was suddenly filled with remorse, anger, and understanding. That's why he is so troubled…so disobedient. He's full of anger, and has no one to turn to.

"Wait a second…but that would mean Gafran is only fourteen or fifteen years old! But that can't be?"

Aedan half chuckled, half sighed. "A troubled man always looks older. With what he's been through." He looked up, staring at me intently. "I never meant to reveal so much. Gossiping, that is. Not right….not right at all…" he said to himself, biting his lip in frustration. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he twitched in discomfort. Perhaps it was me, but at that moment Aedan seemed older, wiser, more thoughtful than just the playful Rider I've seen.

He was still staring at me, his lips slightly parted. "Why did you really bring me down here, Arria?"

It was the first time he had called me by my true name, and I was quite taken aback by his question. "I wanted to show you…."

"The armory? I've seen it many times before, surely you must know this." I swallowed the saliva building in my mouth.

"Not quite myself tonight, lieutenant. A bit too much ale…" I began to say, but he only cocked his head, half listening.

"I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry?"

"You were troubled tonight, that much is plain. When you went to the bar, something was vexing you." He was getting to close to knowing me. I don't like it when my feelings outwardly show. I said nothing, hoping he would drop it. I crossed my arms and kept my head down, unsure of what to do in such an awkward moment.

He gently placed his hand on my chin, lifting my face up to look at him. "Chin up lass" he stated, the Galahad piercing smile once more surfacing. "Your not alone."

It felt like eternity since a man touched me the way he had touched my skin so gently. I gulped in my nervousness, unsure myself why I had just not gone to bed before. Why had I brought him down here?

I found I had placed my hand onto his, as his fingers brushed a few stray hairs off my cheek. He was whispering now. "You are lonely and hate to show it." He took his hand off my cheek and just held my fingers, eventually kissing the palm of it.

"No I'm not…" I said slowly, my voice slightly quivering.

He continued to stare into my eyes, searching for something deep behind them. "You bottle things inside and hope to the gods that they don't show outwardly."

"Everyone does."

He smiled, drawing ever closer. "I'm not sure who you are, Arria. I know you as a Captain, I know you as a warrior. I know what you strive for in this country…but I don't know you…and the fact that I want to know you more scares me."

He was being blatantly honest. There was no Avery popping out, laughing hysterically at their little joke on me.

"There's nothing to know." I stated, my voice as far from commanding and able as one can get.

He hesitated, but slowly began to rub the sides of my shoulders with his fingers, touching nothing but flesh. "You don't want to look soft in front of us. You strive to get our respect. Why do you care? Who are you out to impress?" Brutal honesty. "If I'm dangerously straying beyond borders, let me know…but somehow…I feel you want to let out something."

It was I, not he, who made the first move. I titled my head upwards, closing my eyes as I brought my mouth up to his, his tender lips touching mine first with a hint of shyness, then with more power. He wrapped his strong arms around my back as I held on, for once my fears, my depression not dwelling in my thoughts.

"You're safe" he whispered, and without another word, kissed me harder and more fiercely, my hand expertly squeezing hold of his back, then his head. But before anything could go on I broke the kiss, placing my head in his chest, and we both slid to the ground. All he did was hold me, and did not ask for more.


	17. The Anniversary of Loss

Sorry it took so long to update, school's been hard. Wow, Im supposed to be studying for a final exam thats gonna commence in...oh, about 8 hrs...but noooo, I'm updating because I put fanfiction first in my list of priorities. You better read this.

Chapter 17

"Ahem…" a voice cracked, disturbing my peaceful position on Aedan's chest. I uncomfortably looked up to see Jols, his arms folded and eyebrows raised in question. Aedan was the first to get up, his cheeks as red as a rose, and his look one of sheer horror.

"Jols! This…this isn't…I mean…" he stuttered, unsure of what words would get us out of the situation.

"Best time for you two to get some sleep" was all he said, and left.

Aedan took my hand and pulled me up. "Arria…Captain…umm…" he innocently stuttered once more. For some reason I was strangely calm, as if it didn't matter who saw us. I placed my index finger to his sweet lips.

"Shhh…come. Time for sleep. Tomorrow we will contemplate our actions." Could these wise, calm words be escaping from my mouth? The same girl that used to freak out over everything? Perhaps I was growing up after all. Aedan nodded his head violently, his blonde curls bouncing.

Over the next few days, Aedan and I did not speak of our night in the armory, mainly due to the number of meetings Arthur had to occupy our time. In fact, weeks went by without a word, save the tasks at hand concerning western affairs. We had messengers send us word from several villages and provinces, detailing constant raids. I devoted my time entirely to my post, observing with great confusion the sudden wave of attacks happening so close to each other. One southern province claimed to have seen Saxon ships circling the ports. To this Arthur gazed over at Guinevere, his look one of concern.

During our long meetings, I sat beside Aedan and Gawain. Sometimes I would look over and see Conall and Avery play some type of game with their hands under the table when they thought no one was looking. They had no idea how to act seriously, and I found myself acting like the scolding mother afterwards on such weary nights, with veins ready to pop from my forehead at their embarrassing charades.

Gafran was being especially difficult. When he sparred with Gawain, the rule is if you accidently draw blood from another, the sparring is over. But Gafran didn't stop. After grazing his superior in the shoulder, Gawain let his guard down for a moment, intending on cleaning the wound right away. B ut Gafran swung again, this time low, and Gawain only moved out of the way by inches."Gafran! Stop!" I shouted as he continued on, blazing his sword with fury at Gawain, the glint in his eye one of scorn.

Aedan cut in, clashing his sword against his friend's, his look one of commanding seriousness. "That's enough, friend. You've proven you're the best." Gafran was sweating profusely, and looked up at the taller Rider, his face changing from anger to sorrow.

"Sorry. Got a lil carried away there…" Was all he said, and he was looking at Aedan, not me. I gulped in my fears as Gawain glanced my way.

"Do we have to go back to wooden swords?" I questioned dryly.

Gafran finally looked my way, trying to appear apologetic. Maybe it was just the sun glaring in my face, but I thought for a second he smirked with authority over me. "No, Captain. I'll be more careful."

Gawain recognized the awkwardness kicking in. "Alright. Gafran, go spar with Aedan. I'll be back in a little while." It was common for us to bruise and bleed while training. Nothing was ever severe. Everyone continued on with their training, and I took up my bow and shot at a few targets, though my head kept glancing back to Gafran. He certainly didn't respect me…nor Gawain. Perhaps Aedan could get through to him.

Later on that evening at dinner, Merlin requested a few Riders to be spared to accompany him on a journey south, to see if these rumors of Saxon incursions were true. I had Remus, Conall and Gafran go with him, hoping that perhaps a good kick in the arse from a Pict warrior would whip my men into shape.

A while later, Arthur sent the rest of my men and I, without his accompaniment, to more western provinces to ascertain the economic losses caused by the raids. Gawain came along this time, though I felt as if Arthur was sending him on purpose to keep an eye on me.

For a solid month we scoured the hillsides, occasionally finding a small band of Irish warriors keen on picking a fight. One particular nasty band of rogues flanked us, and we were left outnumbered two to one. Lucky for me my men have been trained well. I took an arrow to the shoulder and a slash to my thigh, my mind weary of judgment. To my surprise and admiration, Aedan took control of the situation; giving out orders quickly, retreating us into the mist, giving Tobias enough time to sneak in a few sniper attacks in the dark.

All and all, we each sported some type of battle scar. I visited with many of the Lords of several villages; some deeply concerned for their people, others no better than the scum that raided them. I was beginning to see how Riders could deal with such leaders.

It became clear to me one damp morning that I had arrived on this island exactly one year ago. An entire year had passed since the murder of my family, since the betrayal of Rome, since the Saxon battle. In one year's time I had gone from Senator's daughter to helpless victim, to captive, and finally, a female captain of the King's Riders. It amazed me to no end God's sense of humor in unraveling my life.

After dealing with a Lord who was paying off the Irish with gold and secrets about how to best scourge his neighbors, all the while protecting his own lands from raids, Gawain and I decided to head back home. One thing I had learned was that even though my duty was to protect the villagers, we still needed to return home at least once a month to ensure the safety of our king.

We were a few days' ride from Camelot, Arthur having insisted on changing the name to our beloved fort. He claimed he would start his reign with a fantastical city from which the foundations of freedom would arise. I had no doubt in my mind he would achieve this. Once Arthur had his mind set, you couldn't change it.

"Argh, my muscles are aching. Can't we take a breather, Cap?" Avery asked, rubbing his thighs as he slowed his mare down.

I shook my head, looking up at the sky. The clouds became dark, moving faster than normal. "Storm's coming. Best get as far from this field as possible. The next village is only an hour's ride from here…look, there's the road." Avery groaned and kicked his horse into a light canter, going slightly ahead of us.

A loud cackle thundered throughout the land, the boom faintly tremoring the ground beneath us as my horse neighed his dislike. At first a few droplets sunk into my hair, followed by a gust of wind that moved the branches of the nearby trees. Those few droplets turned to an outward downpour, the rain coming in thick and unrelenting. Aedan kicked his horse harder and rode up beside me. The wind was becoming deafeningly loud, and he had to shout in order for me to hear.

"Do you think we should just stop for now and head out when the storm quiets down? The horses are tense.." he stated, not a hint of sneer in his voice. A bolt of lightning flashed in the distance, sending my horse into a fit. I used all my energy to calm him down.

"Perhaps your right. Gawain! Avery!" I shouted to the two most in front. "We're stopping."

We were by the road between the clearing and the treeline, and the men headed inward to set up camp. Thunder rolled louder and louder, our own voices inaudible compared to its ferocity.

I let the men rest and headed deeper into the forest, hoping to catch supper. My skills with the bow were adequate, though I could never amount to the archer's Remus and Tobias are. The woods were dark and misty, though it was the middle of the day. Lancelot had taught me numerous tracking skills, and I let my mind tune out the howling wind, the rustling leaves, and the pattering of rain onto the muddy ground. Instead, I focused my senses for the chirp of a bird or a snapping twig. I silently moved upward as the slope increased.

Almost instantly, I stopped. Crouching low, I took one of my arrows and bent back my bow, my hand unshakably clasping it tightly. I looked to the rocks above where I heard it, and silently made my way closer.

A whimper. A human whimper. For a slight second I let my guard down, unsure of who it was. I inched my way closer, keeping my aim true to the rock from which the noise was occurring. Thunder rolled, and the voice sniffled.

My eyes softened when I saw the sight before me. She was scared, her face bleeding and her eyes wide open. Her wrists were bruised, perhaps from being bound by ropes. She couldn't be no more than thirteen or fourteen winters, her blonde hair tousled and sticky with dried blood. She looked right at me, clutching her small kitchen knife shakily. Her body was covered in tattoos, ones that made her out to be a warrior. She looked too weary and wounded to be of any real harm. Still, I wasn't going to take any chances. I put away my arrow and bow, but made sure my knife was still in reach.

"I'm not here to hurt you.." I began softly, reaching forward. She slunk back against the rock, still clutching the knife. She spat on the ground with a fiery spirit, shouting something in a language I did not know.

I tried again, hoping she understood me. "I mean you no harm. I only wish to help…let me look at your wounds…" I tried motioning with my hands, just in case, but her hold on the knife did not change.

"Stubborn lass.." I mumbled, and edged closer anyway. This time she spoke quieter, her eyes dilating and rolling slightly backward. I opened my bag and took out a cloth and apple, throwing them both by her feet. She stared at them, then back at me, her fiery green eyes narrowing. She didn't like being pitied. Or perhaps she didn't like my kind. Perhaps I was untrustworthy in her eyes.

Nevertheless, I was not going to leave her there. Her grip on the knife was relaxing, her wounds making her weary. She grabbed the apple first, munching on it, gazing at me with distaste. Didn't she see I was only trying to help.

"You know I'd love to stay here while you pleasure me with your silence, but I have to get back to my men, and frankly, you need some healing attention…so lets make it easy for both of us. Come down." This time I didn't try motioning with my hands. She understands me, I realized. My sarcasm made her raise her eyebrows. "I know you understand my language. If you do not trust me, that's fine. I suppose it wouldn't help if I said I was a friend of Merlin's."

A spark of life. She bit her lip as the rain continued to pour down our faces. Slowly, very slowly, she lowered her knife. I nodded my head with approval.

"Good. See? I'm not holding any weapons." I put my two hands out where she could see. "Now, take my hand, and let's get you down from here." She did as I was told, but her eyes were still narrowed, her grumbling becoming louder.

She was very weak from her wounds, and I put her arm around my shoulder as we steadily walked back. She clutched her side, and she was limping on her left foot. Someone had treated her very wrong.

When we made it back to camp, the storm was backing down. Five pairs of eyes stared at the two of us as we came into view. "Help would be much appreciated here…" I grumbled, and Gabriel lifted her away from me. She did not make a fuss.

"Thought you were bringing back food…" Gawain began, and I shot him a look that made him quiet.

"Found her wounded against the rocks.

Gabriel put her down against my blanket. She was shivering and shaking all over. She fought to keep consciousness, grabbing the mud with her hands. I put my hand to her forehead. Burning.

"Rest now. Your in good hands." I stated kindly, wishing she would just trust me. She made a noise that sounded a lot like a small chuckle, her eyes still staring menacingly at me. She shook her head from side to side, until her strength left her body, and she fell into a deep, dark sleep.

Avery knew exactly what to do, and for once I saw the comedic side of him leave, and instead he became serious. He shouted out orders for each of us, asking for various herbs to cut. He opened his bag filled with various remedies, and began searching through them. Gawain made a small tent so as to give her privacy, for Avery had to conduct a full body search for injuries, leaving her naked.

I sat with him, assisting as he stitched up a slash in her shoulder. To the many bruises that marked her chest, wrists and thighs, he rubbed a salve on them. There were many bruises and cuts in places I dare not speak of, though looking at it made me writhe with fury. Avery glanced at me with innocence, having never seen a rape victim before. I nodded for him to continue, and I watched as his own eyes narrowed with anger.

He stitched up a few minor cuts on her cheek and forehead. Her left foot was sprained, and he wrapped it up and braced it. One of her ribs was broken. Finally, he gave her a tonic for the fever. He did not speak, he simply left the tent and went over to his blanket. The others looked over at me anxiously when they realized Avery was not going to speak to them.

"She'll be fine, lads." I stated, and laid down next to her, hoping she would not wake until morning.

At dawn I awoke to find Gabriel and Gawain making a makeshift stretcher to bind to my saddle on the back of the horse. It did not take long to construct, and Avery deemed it satisfactory for her to travel on it, provided we go slow and not over any rocky terrain.

With these rules, it took us twice as long to get home. The girl drifted in and out of sleep, her fever taking long to overcome. Avery stayed with her when I couldn't, his eyes full of compassion for the girl. When she was conscious, barely, she did not glare or scoff at Avery the same way she did me. Fine.

When we reached the gates, we found Guinevere eagerly awaiting us with a smile. I dismounted and gave her a small hug of affection. I looked down to see her stomach still the same size. Still she was not with child.

Her smile faded when she saw the girl. "Arria? What happened?" She cried, jogging over to where the girl lay on our stretcher. She bent down at the unconscious girl, touching her forehead.

"I found her hiding in Tuliann Forest. I think she was a captive of some nearby villager."

"You did not investigate this!" She turned on me, her voice dreadfully low and angry.

I kept calm, not letting her anger get the better of me. "She's been in a fever for quite some time now. We had to get her someplace safe." Guinevere blinked, her face returning to its compassionate state.

"Of course. Forgive me for snapping, but the absolute nerve of someone capturing a young girl…its savage."

Avery was looking down. "She wasn't just a prisoner, my queen. I discovered marks on her that could only be left by…well…" He need not finish, for Guinevere's sudden wide eyes alerted him that she understood.

"Let's take her inside. Arthur is anxious to speak with you." Gabriel lifted the girl, and brought her straight into one of the guest bedrooms. I would have followed, but Guinevere was Gawain and I to the library. I turned to Tobias, Avery, and Gabriel.

"Get some sleep. You've all deserved it" I simply stated.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to check in on the girl, address a few of wounds…" Avery stated, shyly, against his usual nature.

I shook my head. "The staff here knows what to do. Rest now. I'm quite proud of you all over the past month. If you'll excuse me…"

"Arria! Gawain!" Arthur called, embracing us both. We all sat down in the dimly lit room, quite aware of the huge stack of maps Arthur had been pouring over on the table beside us. "I promise I won't keep you long, you both deserve some peace and quiet. You may make a full report to me tomorrow at supper. But now…now I must inform you of something that has been troubling me", He gravely stated.

"Yes, my Lord?" Gawain asked, instantly worried.

"I'm sure its nothing, but…Merlin and your other Riders should have returned nearly a week ago. I haven't heard anything…not a single messenger has come."

Gawain beat me to it. "Would you like me to try and find them, sir?"

To this Arthur smiled. "Don't be absurd. I would not send one of my best warriors for such a tedious task. I'm sure they are alright. I've sent Lancelot to get Bors from Archenland and return here. I fear that once our friends return they will bear bad news, and I will need all of my knights for consul. Now- all I need to know tonight, so that I may go to sleep with a clear head, is whether or not the Irish are becoming a much bigger problem than my Riders can handle."

I spoke this time. "We hit a few raiders here and there, nothing extreme. These Irish bands are a growing problem, yes, but nothing we can't handle. I doubt they are planning a full scale invasion, if that's what your worried about."

His face was impassive, and he sighed heavily. "Thank you, Arria. That's all I needed to hear."

At that moment Guinevere silently came through the door, and gave us each a nod. "Excuse me for barging in-"

Arthur smiled. "Not at all. Come, what news have you? Have you spoken with the girl?"

Guinevere took a seat next to her husband, and she brushed back her long wavy hair. "Yes, she wakened for a short time, and thankfully recognized me. Her name is Sorcha."

Arthur chuckled. "Named for the famous girl who saved her six cursed brothers from the evil stepmother. Interesting."

"Indeed…she comes from the Chulainn tribe. It took a lot for her to give that away. She is from one of your Irish raiders, her band was ambushed by angry villagers and all were killed except her. Instead, one of the villagers hid her away in a dark room beneath his lodge." Guinevere now turned to me. "She recognized you, you and the Riders. Said you had killed many of her kinsmen." My face became flushed, I must have been deathly pale.

Gawain quickly came to the defense. "We only killed when they attacked."

"Gawain, there is no need to defend your actions. Once we find out what Merlin has uncovered, I promise you, my Queen, we shall look into this matter. But until then, we have other pressing issues to deal with." Arthur spoke in a tender voice, wishing with all his might not to hurt her feelings. "She'll be safe here."

Guinevere was bothered, but did not let it show. The next day Lancelot arrived with Bors, but still no news of Merlin and my Riders. We met in the room of the Round, where I let Aedan, Gabriel and Tobias give a detailed account of all our dealings with Lords and the Irish. Avery was absent, tending to the Irish girl.

"What is to become of the girl?" Bors questioned.

Guinevere answered him. "She is certainly not to be treated as a prisoner, I assure you. When she is feeling better perhaps she can identify this disgraceful villager, and we'll send her back to her own country."

"Where she can tell all her tribes of Camelot where she was kept in, and of the King and his warriors who slaughtered her people. Face it, she is a liability" Lancelot stated, not a hint of compassion in his tone. I looked over at him, surprised by his statement. It was I who spoke.

"Then what would you do with her, Lancelot?" It was the first time we had spoken, and I was challenging him. He did not even bother to glance my way.

"Keep her here. Treat her fairly, of course….there was a time not so long ago that we encountered this same problem, with a Roman instead of an Irish lass."

"And look how well Arria turned out to be" Guinevere exclaimed.

"Was I also considered a liability!" I shouted, standing up and staring him dead in the eyes. "Did you assume, I too, was an informant to Rome of Arthur's doings?"

This time he had no choice but to look over at me, and when he did I gulped. It was not the look of anger as I expected from one so stubborn as I knew him to be. It was not a look of sneering satisfaction at ticking me off. He stared, his mouth shut, his eyes lowered, his face demure with a sorrow I had never seen.

Arthur cleared his throat. "That is enough, both of you! For now, the girl stays here. As I said last night, my Queen, the girl's fate will be decided later." There was that same commanding voice that only a king could make.

At that moment everything changed. My heart nearly stopped. I grew cold, so cold I didn't know if I would ever feel the warmth of the sun again. Jols appeared at the doorway, his voice faint, his eyes downcast. "Your Majesty-" he interrupted. Jols knew better than to interrupt a meeting. This was important.

"Yes?" Arthur asked, immediately sensing something wrong.

"Sir Gafran has returned." Just Sir Gafran? Was he a messenger?

At that moment Gafran came through the door, limping toward us, his face bloodied, and his clothes slashed. A wave of nausea hit me. He was not the messenger, I concluded. He was the only one left.

"Forgive me, your Majesty." he whispered, and Aedan was immediately at his side, putting his arm over his shoulder and helping him slide down to the floor, against the wall.

"Go get Avery!" Gawain called to a servant. "get him into his room-"

Arthur stood. "Wait, we must here what happened. Gafran, can you speak?" He was now bending over right next to Gafran, placing his hand on the young man's shoulder.

He gasped for breath. "I rode as fast…as fast as I could…betrayed…Lord of Reagan…"

"Easy, son, easy…take a deep breath.." Arthur coaxed, his voice crackling. I knew what was coming.

"Too late…Merlin…Conall….Remus…murdered before my eyes….ran as fast as could to tell you…should have stayed…should have avenged them….The Saxons…they're coming…"

I put a hand to my mouth to keep from bursting out. No….my men…my young warriors….Merlin…this couldn't be happening. I watched as Arthur grabbed his wife, too stunned to move. We were betrayed by a British Lord. The Saxons were coming…and I experienced the cruelty of loss once more.


	18. Tales of old

Wow this is really sad….I procrastinate on studying a lot….hmmm….seems to me writing is a good way to keep my mind off tests, haha. Its not a good thing, but it sure is fun. Once again, I have mixed tidbits of history with fantasy. Hope you like, and I hope I can update the next chapter soon. REALLLLLYYY SOON!

Chapter 18

The weeks to follow were dark days in the house of Camelot. We learned later that the Saxons were building up their armies once more, and that the few ships some of our villages had seen before were just scouts. This invasion would be bigger than Badon. This was an entire fleet of Saxon warriors, bent on revenge over the loss of their fallen leader and the pride in proving they were better than us. Arthur guessed we had a month to rally our allies.

The worst was that there was barely any time for mourning. Guinevere was the most reclusive, having lost her father. She did not cry in consul over the following days. She kept silent, staring off into space with a stone look plastered on her face. I noticed Arthur try and touch her once or twice, but she was cold to him. The look on his face told me he was just as hurt for not being able to heal her pain. For his burial it seemed the entire legion of Woads came out to pay tribute. There were funeral games and pagan rituals, none of which I took part of. Instead, I said my prayers to God.

Gawain knew how to take the loss of a fallen comrade. He had experienced it so many times before. He was a mentor to the younger men, and they looked to him for solace and answers.

As for me, I don't think I will ever forgive myself for the travesty that has occurred. Of course, others would say, there was nothing I could do. But they were my charge, my brothers in arms. I now knew the pain Arthur told me would arise with being a leader. Aedan put his hand on my shoulder, rubbing my back during their burials. Bors kindly embraced me. "Tis not your fault, lass. This is the life we all chose, and none of us will live to be old men."

As Conall was being covered with soil, I looked over to see the bar girl, Margery, clutching her slightly bulging stomach. Images popped in my mind of his carefree nature, his excitement over becoming a father, his playfulness at keeping the men's spirits alive. Remus was a quiet, obedient comrade, always wanting to do right in the eyes of justice. He was an extraordinary archer. My stomach was turning knots at describing them aloud to everyone. Arthur had taught me well to control my anger, and hide my suffering, but it was almost unbearable. The warrior inside me sought vengeance. The scholar in me made peace. I was torn once more, battling my feelings and desperately wishing to crawl into a small hole.

But I was a Captain. I had to be strong now, for my men. For the people of Britain. I foregone my emotions the day I swore allegiance to Arthur and revoked Roman citizenship.

A few days after we had heard the news, I had Gawain stay in the practice yards with the men, urging them to continue their exercises. It was a stuffy climate outside, with dull moods to match. There was no playful pranks, no guffawing or chuckling. Instead, they did as I would have done, and trained intensely on their fighting skills, honing them until they had mastered it.

I spent my time with Arthur, Lancelot, and Bors in consul, strategizing our next move. I felt bad for thinking it, but we desperately could have used Merlin's guidance. A few times I brought Aedan with me, hoping he would have some type of input.

After a particularly long night of overanalyzing, Lancelot met up with me in the corridor.

"Captain, wait." He called, leaning against the wall. I never sported gowns anymore. Instead, I dressed simply in a long tunic and trousers like the rest of the men. I no longer felt like a woman at all.

"Please Lancelot, save the titles. Call me Arria, unless it pains you to do so" I murmured, standing a few feet away from him with my arms tightly crossing my chest. "What do you want?"

He had grown his curly brown hair long now. It was almost to his shoulder, but tonight he had tied it back. "In this time of need we best not ignore each other. We need to work together-"

I cut him short. "And we shall. I'm not so weak as to put our frivolous quarrels ahead of the task at hand." I turned to go, but he lightly grabbed my arm.

"No, indeed you are not weak." I turned around slowly to face him, that same sorrowful look gazing at me. "I've always said you are a lioness, and I mean it. You are strong, stronger than most men in spirit, and your men see it in you."

"I do not need you to tell me what I already know.." my eyes narrowed accusingly. How dare he tell me what he thinks me to be? How could I ever trust his words again?

He lowered his gaze. "Perhaps I merely just wanted to remind you."

We didn't speak for a while, both of us begging questions mentally. "Why do you care how I feel?" I finally asked, though it was more of a whisper. The dim lights from the torches flickered on his face.

He sighed heavily and looked away. "We should talk later, after everything is taken care of." He was biting his tongue, I'm sure…he always did that when he was nervous.

"You know what happened to Conall and Remus. You saw Tristan and Dagonet fall. We may all go at any time. You would wish to keep everything inside, buried perhaps for the rest of your life?" I kept my voice calm and level, not wanting to scare him off. I simply wanted answers, answers to make peace with myself.

He rubbed his nails through his hair in frustration. "Later, Arria. I promise we will discuss everything later."

And we all know what good a promise from Lancelot was, I thought bitterly. Lyrics burst into my head, the tune of a very depressing song I had heard pass through his lips one cold night, passing through the lips of another young solemn man. A Sarmatian tale to which I did not understand its meaning. At first I began humming it, humming the sad tune. Lancelot looked up, unsure of what I was doing. He raised his right eyebrow, his lips slightly parting in disbelief. Words came to my mind, words I had only understood when Gafran sang it barely above a whisper.

"_Sun of morning, star of night _

Tis for the best that moon shall die

Bleeding earth, o hear my cry

In shadows let me lie

In shadows let me lie

For heaven sees not my plight…"

He stared intensely on me as I finished, my look as sullen as his. He was stiff, breathing heavily, a few drops of sweat escaping his brow. His voice cracked when he spoke. "Where did you hear that?"

I decided it was best not to answer that question. So instead, I merely stated, "I do not understand its full meaning, but I know it speaks of a pain deeper than flesh, of a pain buried within the soul." I stared hard at him, not menacingly, just questioningly.

The flames seemed to glimmer harder, covering half of his face in shadow. "One day you will understand." He exclaimed, and turned around, walking away from me once more.

At night I dreamed of Conall and Remus, a dark hooded figure in the background raising his sword to their backs. Their screams. Their blood flowing along the ground. I woke up in a pool of sweat, my vision blurred by the secret tears that I would not let out in public, tears of love for the brothers I had lost. Perhaps I also cried for my father, my sisters, my mistakes. It had been a long time since I had felt drops of pain surge heavily down my stained cheeks.

That morning I met with Arthur, and together we figured out the best route for sending word of the war that was to come. I would take Avery west with me, while Aedan and Tobias headed south. Gabriel and Gawain would venture north to our Pict friends and recruit as many warriors as we could. Gafran, Bors and Lancelot would stay with Arthur as he coordinated tactics.

"Be careful" I commanded as Aedan packed his bag unto his chestnut mare. As he mounted up, I lifted up my hand, intending on giving him his water jug. Our hands touched. He took the jug, and kissed my palm in the process.

"Same to you" he stated, his vibrant smile perking its way out. It took a lot, but I smiled back, amused as always by his optimism. He and the others left soon after.

"Arria! May I have a word?" My queen spoke, knocking on my door later that afternoon. Opening up the door, I gave Guinevere the slightest of bows as she entered, her face pale and emotionless.

"How may I be of service?" I questioned, nodding for her to sit on my chair.

She stayed standing up. "The girl…Sorcha…she's been itching to speak with you for days. She wishes to return home immediately." Her voice was hoarse and low.

"Your Majesty…you heard what your husband commanded. The girl must stay here."

This time Guinevere stared intently on me with pleading. She spoke once more, her tone softening, her look distant. "I remember, when I was at Marius' dungeon, the cold and the dark so vividly. The shadows mixed with the screams of innocent prisoners dying beside me. I remember being tortured, my only thoughts begging to return home to my kin." She glanced at her hand and made a fist, rubbing the fingers slowly in deep thought. "I know what my husband said. But I also think it matters little whether this girl will be trouble in the long run. I will not condone keeping a mere child as a prisoner during a war to which she is not a part of."

I could see there was no changing her mind, nor was there any excuse I could think of to sway her reasoning. I sighed heavily, knowing already what it was she asked. "You wish Avery and I to take the girl west with us."

She cut in before I could finish. "All I'm asking is that you give her a chance to get back to her people. Take her down to the sea port, let her find her way home on her own. It is not out of the way. I'm asking you as a friend, Arria."

I didn't like it, I didn't like it at all. Though Lancelot and I disagree on a great many things, my military instinct told me to keep your enemies close. But is that not judging to think she is an enemy when she could very well not be? An inner voice within me claimed. Innocent until proven guilty used to be your stance. Freedom for all your motto. Would you sink to the level that corrupts the elite in power?- This voice grew louder and louder in my heart.

I drew out of my trance and turned back to my friend. "Let me see her."

She looked healthier from the last time I saw her. Her bruises were beginning to fade, and her cuts on her face were expertly stitched. Someone had reasoned with her to take a long bath, and her once mangy hair was now a blossoming blonde color again. She did not smile nor frown when I entered, simply stared. Silence befell us both as we sized each other up.

"They say your name is Sorcha. Interesting tale I've heard, no doubt named for your strength of mind." Not even a hint of amusement did she give me. I continued. "I hope you've been treated well here…my-"

"I hope you will accept my gratitude for saving my life" she began, her lyrical voice heavily accented. "I had heard Britains were ruthless barbarians."

"The same could be said of your kinsmen. What is it you want in Britain, anyhow?" She did not scorn my pertness, indeed she seemed ready for such a forthright question. But instead of answering, she herself began a harsh interrogation.

"Why have you not killed me? Surely you realize I am the enemy."

I sighed. "The Irish are far from our most pressing matter right now. If you look for the worst in people, the worst is what you'll find. But perhaps if you assume that everyone has some good in them, you have more a chance of making a companion than a foe."

She scoffed. "That is a foolish way of looking at it."

"Indeed, it is how good men are betrayed or killed. But at least they tried, instead of assuming the stereotype their society has placed on others. That is how wars are made. It is how grudges form, and continue for generation after generation, the blood of the innocent spilling over feuds that nobody even remembered how they began."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "I did not know Britons could look past the surface. You surprise me, captain."

"Hmm, and you are older than you seem. Tell me, you speak as if your are of royal or noble blood. Is this true?"

I struck a nerve, and she looked around in apprehension, pulling the few blonde strands on her forehead behind her ear. She sat up straighter, and cleared her throat. "I suppose there's no harm in saying I am, unless you intend to keep me as ransom, which for some strange reason I doubt you are."

"Your instincts hold true, Sorcha. To be sure, many would seize on to such a prize. But I have a different approach to this matter, one I hope will be to your liking."

She raised her left eyebrow, pondering my words with uncertainty. I continued. "You may go back to your people, unharmed of course, if you swear to whatever gods you obey not to bring trouble to the kingdom of Arthur."

"What? You…you'll let me go, just like that? Based on the word of a young girl from a land your kinsmen deem barbarous?" I could n tell whether she was gracious or thought me imprudent, for she stared long and hard into my eyes, searching for truth.

"Yes."

"I cannot guarantee raiders will not flood your countryside…I don't control Ireland."

"I'm not talking about bands of ruffians scourging the land for a few bits of minor wealth and provisions. I'm speaking of invasion. You will not tell them any of what you have seen, how many men patrol the borders of Camelot, how best to seize our king. All that you have learned and seen in Briton must be kept silent. Only then will I grant you safe passage to the sea."

Perhaps is was the light playing tricks on me, but for a moment I thought I saw the slightest inclination of a smile pass through her upper lip. Chills went down my spine, my mind begging to overthrow my righteous attitude. This was not wise.

"I care little for my own safety when my people are attacked as much as your warriors are. I've seen the Britons flood the peaceful villages, rape our women, kill our offspring for sport." There was an anger such as I had never seen in one so young. I tried to ignore what she said, but knew part of it was true. There were stories of such incidents.

"What is it you want, then?"

"I wish to make the same deal. Stop invading Ireland, and I shall not speak of what I have seen."

"Just as you said before, I cannot guarantee rebels of King Arthur's laws will not try and insinuate their blood feuds. But I assure you, these attacks are not condoned by the court. I myself punish the lawbreakers of such acts."

She gulped. "I can see these negotiations we speak of are harder to follow on both sides. Very well. I will return to my country and speak to no one my knowledge of your land. But in the future, I trust under different circumstances further negotiations of peace can be made between your king and my kinsmen."

Yes, she was of noble blood alright. Too bold, too knowledgeable in politics, and too cultured was she to be anything less than the daughter of some esteemed Tuath leader. She took my hand and we shook, a bond forming between us. Trust was hard for me. Many had tarnished all meaning of the word for me. But once more, I looked to my convictions, and trusted the girl I had saved from death.

Guienevere assured me Arthur would not charge me with treason by doing this, and at dawn the next morning, Avery, Sorcha and I set out to the west.

I made Avery ride ahead, to scout for unwelcome visitors, while I brought up the rear, just in case the girl tried to run for it. Sorcha kept pace, her injuries not giving the smallest of fits, or so she let on. We did not speak all day, and I did not let the two rest before sundown, when we made camp. As Avery went to collect firewood, I unpacked a blanket for the girl.

"Here" I said, tossing it to her. She took it graciously, and scratched her neck. "I never truly thanked you properly for saving my life."

"I just pray I won't live to regret it." I stated with a smile. She smiled back, the first real smile I had ever seen her give to me.

Avery came back shortly after. "Here you go ladies." Tossing the logs on the ground, he proceeded to ignite the flames that soon warmed us up. I boiled a light broth, and gave each their portions. Uncomfortable silence swept through as we ate.

"I was told the Irish have a way with the telling of tales that Britons would die to hear" Avery began, sensing the rigidity.

She turned to him, tilting her head to the side, her blonde hair glowing by the flames. "Indeed."

"Might you spare a tale?"

She looked to me, then back at him. "Perhaps another night. I am weary from the ride." I thought of the pain she must be going through both mentally and physically, the area between her legs sore from riding and past cruelties done.

Avery realized the same thing. "Of course, silly of me to suggest it. Well then, maybe Arria or myself can regale you with a story, though I doubt either of us can tell it grandly."

I smirked. "I am no bard. Go on Avery, give us a show."

He was now sweating, and it was plain to see he was not used to being only in the company of women. With the men he was the jester, the trickster. With women, who knows?

He cleared his throat as Sorcha looked at him amusedly. He stared back at her, confidence rising once again.

"Well, since I am with two female warriors, it is only appropriate to praise the deeds of past heroines of my homeland, of Britain. Tonight I hail a queen long gone, a queen whose reign inspired thousands-" I widened my eyes. I never knew Avery had a talent with words.

"And finished in tragedy. I sing of a warrior who stopped at nothing to save her people from tyranny. I salute Boudicca, Queen of the Iceni."

My guard was kept down as I listened, intently drawn into his story that appeared to be true. Sorcha lay down beside me, her eyes fixed into his as he accounted the bravery of such a woman. Boudicca was Queen of a Celtic tribe in Britain when the Roman Emperor Nero decided to invade her homeland. Many tribes, too fearful to resist, paid homage to Rome. Her husband did likewise, the taxes on her people escalating as time went on. After the death of her husband the King, the Romans ordered the heart of the Celts, their weapons, to be disbanded and given over to Rome. This was the last straw. The queen, whose hair was as red as flames and a temper to match, gathered what few tribes she could, and led a resistance movement against the Empire. She fought alongside her countrymen, slaying those who oppressed her people and took away their freedoms. She drew blood from the wicked, and was the first to succeed in battle against Nero's forces. But tragedy struck, and her two daughters and herself were captured.

Raped and tortured, the Queen would not accept defeat. She would not give Rome the satisfaction of conquering her spirit. In valiant response, Boudicca killed herself before the Romans could, having never lost her freedom. The story speaks for itself as to what happened after. Rome took over, until a new cry of freedom began.

As he finished the tale of centuries ago, none spoke. A slight breeze swayed the trees as owls hooted and frogs croaked around us. I let his words sink into my heart, empowering me with hope for the future ahead.

"Where did you learn to talk like that?" Sorcha asked, as mesmerized as I was.

Even in the darkness, I could tell he was blushing. "It is something I've always known. My mother told the tales in such a way."

Sorcha smiled in delight. "You have the soul of an Irishman. Are you sure your British?"

He chuckled and rubbed his shoulder in discomfort. It was I who spoke next. "A fine tale, Avery. Best we get some sleep, and rise early to get as far as we can quickly. I want to be back at Arthur's side as soon as possible."

That night I dreamed of battles, of a woman warrior leading hundreds of men against the invading Saxons as the field drew red with blood.


	19. Secrets revealed

I suck at planning out my stories carefully, but I'm pretty sure there will only be about 3-5 more chapters left with this one. I could make it longer, but I see no point in drawing it out when I don't have enough time to do that. Sorry my chapter updates are monthly, I'll try and make these last ones weekly.

Chapter 19

I rode at the head over the next few days, tilting my head around to see Avery and Sorcha always deep on some topic or another as they rode side by side. Rolling my eyes, I used all the energy I could into making sure no ambush was in sight. It was best to speak with as many lords as possible before reaching the western sea.

I let Sorcha stay with us as we talked to the nobles, as long as she kept silent. Lord Balian dispatched over one hundred of his soldiers to Camelot, while Lord Dominic sent fifty. It was hard to spare soldiers when invading raids were occurring so frequently. Overall, Avery and I had mustered three hundred men to serve against the Saxon incursion, and it was clear we needed to get back home soon.

"Here is where we leave you" I stated as my mare halted against the coastal shores. Seagulls hailed their welcomes as the waves sounded their power. All of us dismounted and headed over to the boatman I had arranged from our meeting of the last nobleman.

"He will take you as far as the Isle of Man, where another boat waits. From there I trust you can get home by yourself" I said seriously, though inside I was a wreck of nerves. Would the girl keep her promise?

Sorcha nodded her head gratefully and eyed Avery. "You have both been very kind to me. I shall speak of nothing but your rescue of me to my people. Perhaps one day in the future we can discuss further terms of peace between our two countries."

Avery gave her a solemn look, though in the back of his head their was a yearning I could easily sense. "The Saxons will not stop if they take over Britain. Once they are through with us they will come for your island and its riches."

His words hurt, as if he foretold the truth that failure was immanent. She let her lips part slightly, something I used to do quite often. It was the look of forbidden lust. Compiling herself, she spoke. "This I will also tell my father, though an alliance between Ireland and Britain is extremely unlikely." She uncomfortably gazed away and looked my way once more. "I know you don't trust me, Captain. But thank you. Perhaps in the future I shall look for the good in others, even if that costs me dearly."

I could only slightly bow my head in recognition. Avery slipped something into her hand and winked. "Be a good lass, then," he optimistically commented, shrouding his obvious concern for the girl. She kept her hand closed and her head high, knowing already what he had given her.

As we began to canter off the sand and back into hillside, I looked over at my comrade with my eyebrow raised in curiosity. Avery did not bother to even glance back at me. He kept his head low and his sighs soft.

"I was thinking we'd make one final stop at Hempstead a bit south of here. The governor there was weary to swear allegiance to Arthur, but perhaps he'll spare a few men to our cause," I said, desperately trying to get his mind off the girl. I don't think he heard me. Strange, this all was. Avery, our cocky jester, had fallen hard for a girl he barely knew, a girl who was a bit young for him to begin with, and the enemy of Britain to boot. But there was no mistaking the sorrowful look he gave as he stared at the ground ahead of him. He was in love, with someone who, seemed to me, returned his affections in a nonverbal way. I found myself actually jealous of his feelings. Jealous of the way they communicated without words and connected on a level I had experienced only once before.

Who knew if I would ever experience love again. I had come to terms with the fact that I would not live long on this earth. My duty to the crown almost forbade me from being allowed a peaceful life well into old age. Dinna matter. I was the daughter of Nicoteles the Wise, and therefore knew what was important in this life.

I did not need love to brand the way I lived my life. I had my moral beliefs, and my strong stance on equality and freedom to keep me going. Still, no matter what I told myself, my heart ached for something more, and it came at the worst possible moment.

We rode in to Camelot a few days later as villagers and soldiers alike were working together to make new barracks right behind the Wall. Companies were coming in droves, while we made arrangements to set up simple housing quarters. All signs meant the battle was to take place somewhere near Camelot. Scouts had given word the Saxons were slowly marching northwest as they waited for more ships to arrive. It was useless to fend them off on the coastline, with so many ways for them to overcome the borders. Villages had been evacuated, and were sent north of the Wall into Pict territory, to which many were nervous about. Though our relations with the Woads had improved since the joining of Guinevere and Arthur, villagers previously exposed to their raids could not fathom peacefully co-existing with them.

Upon our return, Guinevere thanked me in private for going against Arthur on this matter. The King did not even mention a word of the Irish girl to us, and we certainly were not going to bring it up. Bors had made Archenland the prime location for refugees to stay at while the Saxons were raiding in the south. He grumbled a bit about food supplies and shelter for the many mouths to feed, but ultimately he obeyed Arthur's word.

Lancelot guessed we had two weeks to prepare until the dogs came slobbering on our doorstep. Soon all my Riders made it back to the fort, each bringing as many soldiers as possible. In the end, we estimated we had about fifteen hundred arms. With the latest news from the south, the word was the Saxons were over three thousand in number, with more arriving by ship each day. The ratio was not helping the dark gloom that swept through the hearts of our men.

The new Pict leader, Corwin, came a week later with two hundred seasoned warriors, which added a spark of hope to our quest. Guinevere barked orders to the servants, making sure all soldiers were fed well and training constantly. One could say this was the first true legion that Britain had ever acquired under the reign of Artorius Castus.

As for me, I trained with the men during daylight hours and by night met with a small council to discuss our progress.

"We need to use the trees to our advantage this time. We know the land, they don't. We could take out a quarter of their men if we divert them into the misty woods," Lancelot explained, taking a gulp of ale from his goblet. He had heavy bags under his eyes from endless unrest. I knew because I was experiencing the same thing. Aedan looked thoughtfully on this request.

"Indeed the woods are a powerful ally. Between the mist, our archers could strike from the tops of trees. And traps could be set. I hear our Woad friends are good at that sort of thing."

All eyes turned to Corwin, who smirked his delight at the praise. Arthur nodded his approval at the proposal and sipped from his cup. His dark brown hair was tossed and curly, and he obviously hadn't shaven his beard for awhile. Our scruffy king was troubled, and his worrisome emotions showed. He extended his elbows forward on the table and folded his hands, pressing all the weight of his chin down in thought.

I looked to Guinevere, who sat like a pale ghost staring forward. A tiny cough escaped her lips, but she quickly tried to cover it up by clearing her throat. Lancelot glanced at her, then at me. For all my loathing of him, I still appreciated his concern for others. His look meant for me to talk to the queen later. I blinked once slowly, indicating I would.

Jols appeared at the door, bowing to Arthur. "What is it, Jols?"

"Your Majesty, Lord Cormack of Glencarson has just arrived and wishes to speak with you."

Gafran's uncle. I slightly opened my mouth, in surprise. My eyes immediately fluttered over to Gafran, who stiffened in his seat, his eyes becoming cold. I looked away, and could tell Aedan was glancing over at me. Arthur had Jols show the Lord without delay into the Room of the Round, and we all stood.

He a tall, broad shouldered man of about 6'3. His square jaw and thick eyebrows gave off an unpleasant air to him, but I suppose the local girls would deem him quite a catch for a man in his late thirties.

When he spoke, his voice was deep and commanding. "Your Majesty, forgive my intrusion but I came as fast as I could. I'm sorry I could only spare forty six of my men, but Glencarson is far too close to the Saxons at hand to spare any more. As for myself, I have left my son in charge of my affairs so I could proudly serve you."

I raised my eyebrows. He certainly seemed an honorable man. But looks can be deceiving. Lord Cormack glanced over at his nephew and bowed his head in acknowledgement. Gafran just stared at him, his eyes narrowing in disgust.

"We gladly appreciate your men, Lord Cormack. It has been too long since I have seen you," Arthur stated with a smile. Guinevere nodded her approval. After introductions were made, business carried on until sundown.

I immediately followed Guinevere when she retired early, and as swift as a ghost closed the door to her room behind me without her noticing. As she softly walked over to her nightstand and began to brush her long hair I silently stepped forward.

"My Queen…" I stated, but stopped when she jolted in surprise, dropping her comb to the ground.

She held her heart for a moment, then tried to place a smile on her lips. "My dear, you scared me…"

I did not smile back. "Guinevere what are you doing? Your not eating, your not sleeping, you barely speak a word to anyone, and your worrying your husband to death!" Never before had I raised my voice to her, and I dare say I probably never will again. I continued. "When I came back from Rome you came to me in concerned about my well being, well now I'm returning the favor, and I demand to know the cause of this!"

She gulped in her saliva and clenched her teeth together, closing her mouth tightly as she furrowed her brow. For a moment I thought my eyes were deceiving me, but I swear as God is my Grace that a small tear trickled down the face of my warrior queen. I blinked, and it was gone, along with her frustrated glare.

"The Saxons are upon us.. I fear for my people, my friends, my husband-"

I rolled my eyes. "Guinevere do not coy with me. I'm your friend. We have been in this situation before, and I'm sorry but your pride is too great to let the fear of Saxons reduce you to this state. The truth." I folded my arms to make my point clear. For some strange reason, I did not care that I was yelling at my superior. Titles mattered little now.

She looked down at the ground in front of her, folding her small hands together. "I have lost my father, Arria…"

I softened my look and crouched down to her level where she sat. I brushed a stray hair from her face. "We all have lost someone dear to us recently. I acknowledge your grief, but you are still lying to me. You know Merlin would not let you grieve in the way you are making yourself sick. Please, Guinevere. We've been through so much together. You know I consider you to be a sister."

At this she smiled, and lifted her gaze to look at me. Her eyes were swollen and red. "I suppose you deserve to know. The healers say I cannot bare children." It took every ounce of strength for her to say this. I could only open my mouth at the words that escaped her mouth. She touched her stomach and looked away, coughing a few times.

"Guinevere, I-I'm sorry". I had no idea what to tell her. This had been her and Arthur's dream, to bare heirs and raise a large family. "Does Arthur know?" I asked.

"He knows he will never have an heir born from me." Her voice changed, and she looked ahead, almost as if she was staring into the future. "He will have a child, one day though. I know it."

"Guinevere-"

She sharply turned back to me. "He does not know I'm dying. I have forbidden the healers of speaking with him on this. I give you the same order." She proudly lifted up her chin, expecting defiance. She was fit to be a queen. I put a hand over my mouth, knowing her words to be true. She now stood and walked me over to her bed, where she had me sit next to her. My beautiful lady cupped her hands into mine and gave me a squeeze of reassurance, though I felt there was nothing to assure me anything would be alright.

She put her head on my shoulder. "Do you remember that night, after the Battle of Badon….when we were sparring for the first time?" I could only nod. Words seemed useless.

"I was speaking the truth when I said with you we are unstoppable. Promise me that when this war is over and Britain is free once and for all of those Saxon dogs…you'll continue to fight for what you hold dear."

I let out a small laugh that was half hearted. "I don't even remember what I've been fighting for anymore."

She lifted her head off of me and stared straight into my eyes, and probably into my heart as well. "Take out your dagger."

It was an order, and I did as she asked. "Read the encryption to me."

I sighed and looked at Dagonet's prized weapon. "Truth, justice, and love."

Guinevere nodded. "The code of our Sarmatian friends. A strong code that every nation should aspire to hold. These are your values, Arria. You have never forgotten them…simply hid them from view."

I ran my fingers over the blade and through the insignia. "And who gave this to you, Arria?" She questioned, knowing fully well the answer. I desperately wanted to glare at her in annoyance, but my heart wouldn't let me.

"Lancelot," I answered, hoping no emotion came from my tone.

"You've done well fighting for justice and truth…but you chose to forlorn the last part of that code, the greatest of them all. You believe he stole that last bit from you."

I began rubbing my temples. "My broken romance with Lancelot did not hinder my performance as Captain of the King's Riders."

"Not physically but you are to stubborn to say you have not felt complete since your return from Rome. It is time to let go your anger and talk to him."

I stood up in anger at her words. "I-I can't believe what your saying! And its not like I haven't tried, he's being difficult!"

"Oh really? Have you tied him up to a chair and made him listen?"

"No, but-"

"Have you yelled at him, thrown stuff at him, begged him to talk about it?"

"No, I happen to be an adult."

"Oh, I see. So you kindly asked for a word and when he told you you'll talk later, you said okay."

I grunted my disliking of this conversation. "What does it matter, Guinevere? We had a small fling, something he did not even care about enough to take further before jumping into bed with other women as I dragged myself bruised and broken back to this confound country!"

"Arria Gaius, sit down!" Her tone was bitter, and for a second I feared for my life if I did not do as she commanded. "Honestly, you are as pig headed as he! Now listen. You have not felt complete since you saw him in the arms of another woman. You shirked it off because you did not want to look the fool, but inwardly it was killing you little by little every day. He completes you. You know what they call that? Love. He is your soul mate, your other half. And the only reason I'm telling you this is because I want to see you happy before I go!" I hated her for saying these things. I hated her for knowing me so well. But mostly, I hated her because I knew she would leave me soon. It was taking every ounce of energy for me not to break down and cry for her just then. But I knew she would simply scorn me if I took pity on her.

Finally I spoke. "It was he that ended it, not me."

"So ask him why. Make him answer you. And it must be done before the Saxons come."

"Why is that?"

"Because I fear we may not win this time."


	20. The Fear of Loss

Thank you soo much for your great reviews! This chapter took alot of energy to write, and it still hasnt come out the way I want it to, but for times sake, I put it out without much tweaking. Maybe in the future I'll have more time to go back and change a few things, but the overall message came out okay, even if the right words didn't. Please review!

Chapter 20

Sleep never came that night. I tossed and turned in my chamber, unable to succumb to the will of my tired body and spirit. I felt broken, unnerved by Guinevere's secret. I could not bear to lose another so dear to me. At one point I tried to imagine what life would have been if my father had never accepted the mission to Britain. We never would have been betrayed…my sisters and father would still be alive. On the other hand, I would have married and probably have already started making babies, and my days would be spent in a lonely complex, awaiting my rich husband's return in the evenings. To many Roman women I suppose this is satisfactory, but then again I am not Roman, not anymore atleast. Everything happens for a reason, and the universe unfolds as God wills it to, no matter what I wanted.

As darkness withdrew its glare and a slight orange tint made its way through my window, I discovered there was no point in trying to sleep anymore. Down on the practice fields, my Riders were conversing with one another in low voices.

"Captain," Aedan called to me, as he stood in a corner with Tobias, Avery and Gabriel. Goodness I hoped the bags under my eye weren't visible.

"I hope you're not huddled over here thinking up various pranks to play on the King's new soldiers."

"Eh, they wouldn't know a joke if it bit them in the arse. Bit stiff, these new recruits are. Tested em out yesterday," Avery stated. Already he had reverted back to his lighthearted nature. I half expected him to be moping about since Sorcha left.

Aedan glared at his comrade, and turned his head back to me. "We can't find Gafran, and his horse is gone."

I sighed. "I don't suppose you think this has something to do with his uncle, do you?"

"All I know is that he needs to be found. He has a short temper."

"He's probably just letting off steam. You saw how angered he looked when he saw Lord Cormack walk in."

"Why is that, anyway?" Tobias piped in. I looked toward Aedan.

"Let's just say Lord Cormack and Gafran have never quite seen eye to eye."

Avery whispered loudly "Meaning the brute never cared much for young Gafran, and probably made him into the conceited lad he is."

"Mind your words, Avery. Now, I doubt this is any cause for alarm. Aedan, I want you and Gabriel to ride out to the Wall and ask for the guard on duty last night. Perhaps he will know something. Avery, Tobias, I want you to head the training of the new recruits today. Detail some of the plans Arthur discussed yesterday. It looks like we'll be seeing battle a bit sooner than we thought." As I finished my orders, I watched as two scouts rode hard into the stable yard, bringing the latest news to Arthur.

By nightfall, the news had hit. The Saxons were marching forward sooner than expected. They would be upon Camelot within three days.

"I should've taken battling Huns in Sarmatia over Saxons when I had the chance…" Gawain stated as he, Aedan and I talked in his quarters. I sat on his bed, staring at his collection of weapons he collected from vanquished enemies. Aedan sat next to me, his blonde curls let down for once.

A knock at the door brought Gawain to his feet, and in walked Lancelot. He stood clean shaven and in a simple brown tunic and trousers. He too had his hair down instead of pulling it back.

"Good, you've come," Gawain stated, and motioned for his friend to sit down next to me.

"And what, dear brother, are we here to discuss?" Lancelot retorted crabbily. He rubbed his eyes, obviously wanting to retire early.

"Something has been weighing on my mind recently, and I thought it best to bring it up with all of you before presenting it to Arthur," Gawain began, pacing back and forth. I felt very uncomfortable between Lancelot and Aedan, almost as if an unannounced tension rose between the two. Trying to listen to the matter at hand, I straightened my sore back and cracked my neck.

"Go on then," Aedan croaked, looking as though he had a feeling of what his friend would say.

Gawain sighed. "When we took on the Saxons at Badon, we were free men under no land of rule. We were fighting to recover a lost identity. Now we will be fighting to keep that identity from those that would steal it, I understand this. I believe I know each of you well enough to think you would prefer death in battle above all else. Unfortunately, so does Arthur. The problem with this is, last time Arthur was not king. There was no monarchy." I was beginning to see where he was going with this.

He continued. "I'm sure his Majesty will not approve. But if…forgive me for being pessimistic…if Camelot falls, we cannot let Arthur sacrifice himself for glory. He must be kept safe, so that one day he, or his children, or his children's children…can emerge from the ashes of defeat."

Silence befell the group. My cheeks flushed when he mentioned Arthur's children, my mind returning to the haunting words of Guinevere.

Aedan was nodding his agreement, understanding it entirely. Lancelot sat with his face emotionless, deeply in thought. "You are suggesting Arthur be absent from battle and taken somewhere safe," I stated. "…Should the tides turn…"

"Forgive me, but this plan is folly. Yes, Arthur would not let you do this, and for good reason! We need his leadership in the midst of battle…his tactics and skills. Plus, the men need to be reassured their so called high king is worthy of such a title. A king that hides has little honor to show his people. If you take this away from him, losing is immanent!" Lancelot bolstered, adamant with his words.

Gawain said, "I see your point, Lancelot, but you must look at the bigger picture. We shall only intervene when we know for sure the battle is lost, and only then. Even if the Saxons invade all of Britain, we need Arthur alive to give hope to the future. If he lives, Britain still has a chance."

Both points seemed justifiable. It was I who spoke next. "You both are speaking as if we have already lost."

"Simply looking at alternatives, Arria."

We talked long into the night, carefully arranging every possible outcome. My throat was harsh from a lack of sustenance that day, and I found my eyes itchy and irritable.

After a long break of silence, Aedan spoke. "I suppose now is a good time to tell you Gafran returned shortly before this little meeting began. He's a bit moody, and wouldn't talk to anyone."

I cracked my neck. "Well, that's one less thing to worry about. Try and talk to him in the morning if you can…I don't need one of my best warriors sulking about."

"Problem with your men?" Lancelot asked.

"No, not at all," was my retort.

A few minutes later we broke up, groggily trekking back to our quarters as dawn approached. I had not slept in over forty eight hours, but once more too many thoughts made it impossible to find comfort under my sheets.

Pulling my hair back, I set out to the stables, placing my saddle on Marrin, the old but reliable chestnut mare.

"Out for a run?" a low voice called, making me jump with fright.

"You should always announce your presence instead of sneaking about when a lady is present" I snapped.

Lancelot cocked his head to the side and smiled. "Glad to see you still consider yourself a lady."

I folded my arms across my chest. "And you don't?"

He continued to smile mischievously, something I haven't seen him do in months. "You will always be a lady. I was just thinking, with you being Captain and all….that you yourself could forget that small factor…I'm sounding like an ass, aren't I?"

"Indeed." I put the bridle on Marrin, who neighed her opposition softly.

"Forgive me for my intrusion, but I was hoping we could take a small ride together." I looked over to see that his horse was already tacked and ready to go.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me until after this mess with the Saxons was finished," I sneered, stroking the neck of my mare.

His smile faded. "Yes, well, perhaps I was wrong to want to wait."

I scoffed. "Sir Lancelot, wrong? Unthinkable."

We rode as fast through the forests and fields as we could, breaking in our horses for a solid five hours. We did not speak, he simply led the way and I did not ask questions. I was tired, but would not let that show.

Finally he slowed his pace as we entered a hillside field of nothing but tall yellow weeds and a small stream nearby. I recognized it immediately. It was the same field Lancelot had taken me when I had sparred with Gawain my first time atop a horse. Harrow's Field, the place where the body of Irina and te ashes of Titus lay. But Lancelot did not know that matter. Lance quickly dismounted, and sent his horse along to gulp down his well deserved water. I did likewise, waiting for him to speak.

The knight motioned for me to come closer and sit next to him. I kept my distance, sitting a few feet away, and he said nothing. For a few minutes we simply sat, transfixed at the weeds as the wind gently blew against them, pointing them to unknown blue horizon ahead.

"I don't exactly know how to begin this…" he stuttered, and I raised an eyebrow. The Great Sarmatian Knight, the cocky pirate who bedded anything that moved…was nervous.

Suddenly I felt all my emotions spieling over, and my voice was harsh. "Perhaps I can help with that. The only thing that kept me going during my captivity was the thought that you were still alive. I have been too prideful to say it before, but it was my love for you, my hope of reuniting with you that kept me from darkness. I am not afraid to say this anymore. When I returned and stared into your heartless soul, my own folly at loving a man like you showed its true colors, and I thought myself foolish. I suppose I should be thanking you, Sir Knight, for it was in your cold response that I truly found my own strength to carry on."

It had taken much to admit my love for him and my imprudence that came with that emotion. He had kept silent, his lips slightly parting and his eyes downcast in shame. I feel my pain.

He sighed heavily, and scratched the back of his head. He then turned away from me, staring off in the distance as the sun shone directly above us. "That night…the night they took you…it was the worst night of my life." His voice was shaky, as if every word produced some sort of pain within. He continued to look away, too scared to face my stare. "After I fought the assassin, he wounded me deep by my chest. Gawain said I was unconscious for nearly five days afterward, drifting in and out of shadow…my only nightmares of something happening to you. When I awoke…" he took a deep breath. "When I awoke, Gawain told me they had taken you to Rome, to be given to some Senator to be tortured for information. The assassin was caught, and had already left to bring you back under Arthur's word. A pain I had never known before ceased me that instant…a cut deeper than any physical wound I had taken….a terrible fear of losing the only thing that mattered to me."

My heart stiffened at these words, but I said nothing, and kept my face like stone, emotionless. He took that moment to glance over at me for a second, and then he turned his gaze back to the wheat field ahead, clearing his throat. I had been waiting for this answer a long time.

"That day I stormed into the Room of the Round, my injuries still not well enough for me to walk very far. Arthur explained that this assassin dog had given his word to bring you back. I told him it wasn't good enough…we needed to send out soldiers immediately. But Arthur would not concede. Something inside me snapped…a cold that swept through my entire body, as if I had been possessed by some other creature. I…I gripped my sword and held it to my king's throat…demanding him to send me to Rome. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in my room a few days later…high fever and more wounds that required longer to heal. I could not believe it…in my fury for my one true love I put my own king…my best friend…in danger of myself."

My eyes widened with shock, as everything was piecing itself in my mind. "I put love before reason, and almost hurt everything I stand for. Over the next few weeks Arthur had me contained in my room as I howled my wallows, slowly becoming a dark madman filled with grief. Any other would have had me tried and executed for treason…but Arthur understood my rash act."

He now faced me, staring hard into my eyes with truth. "When you came back, my mind soared with relief and worry. I had my lioness once more….but with your return came a dark truth. I am Lancelot, Knight of the Round, Charmer of wives. I thought my strength came from my confidence. You broke that confidence the moment you stepped into my life. Never before had one challenged me so…never had anyone matched my fiery spirit. With you, I felt helpless under your spell. I was madly in love. But when you came back, I realized I could not love you anymore. I would not love you. My duty was to my king, not love. For to lose you would be the harshest pain of all. I will die young, in battle, of this I am certain. I can bed whomever I please and father many sons and daughters….but I thought the risk of losing you to some Roman dog or Saxon sword would be unbearable. And I did not want you to feel the same for me. I did not want you to go into battle, distracted of my safety or broken hearted if I fall. I thought your happiness should lie with another, one willing to sacrifice you to this cause." He was trembling within, as a small tear slid slowly down his left cheek. Lancelot bit his lower lip in embarrassment.

I gathered enough courage to speak. "That is the most dimwitted thought you've ever had. Tell me, do you still feel this way?"

He actually smiled, showing his teeth as he gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, keeping his fingers locked on my neck.

"I thought I was saving you from a life of misery. It turns out that being apart from you only made me sorrowful that I was living without the other half of my soul." What I saw before me was a man searching for life, a man brought down by his fears and as scared as a little boy of getting hurt.

My hands were shaking, and my voice trembled. "But why did you find solace in the company of other women?"

He shook his head. "I thought I could erase you from my mind…" He smiled again, this time his voice barely a whisper. "But it seems your as stubborn in my heart as you are on the outside. Arria…you've made me believe I am more than flesh…I had no right to end things the way I did."

He leaned in, and let his lips gently grasp unto mine. My body went numb as he caressed my skin, holding me tightly as if the entire Hun army could not part us. It felt so right, as if we were one person when our bodies met.

But reason took over, and I pushed him away. "No Lancelot," I commanded, my voice stern. "I will not fawn over you after what you've done. Your wound is too deep, and your prayers have been answered. In battle, I will not be distracted, because I care not for your safety. You have lost that right to gain back my heart….and I guess you will not have to worry about losing me anymore. You've already lost me."

Without another word, I fled to my horse and mounted her quickly, riding her as fast and as far from him as I could, until he was only the size of a fly in the distance behind. Only at that moment did I let the tears flow, angered by his answer and my harsh, prideful words.


	21. Are you ready for a war?

Hahaha, you guys are hilarious! I was rereading old reviews from previous chapters, and how some of you were like "eww don't let Arria take him back! Lancelot sucks!", etc…..and now these newest reviews are… "stupid Arria, take him back!". Oh how I love to toy with your minds J

Chapter 21

I slept the entire day away in my quarters, commanding the servants to keep my door closed under all circumstances. Hugging my satin pillows tightly, I dreamed only of him…the way he smiled, the way he laughed…his playful eyes. Those eyes, I missed them dearly, but could not help but think they would return if only I beckoned. No, I told myself. The battle is near, and I must have my wits.

When I woke, it was night once more, as the songs of crickets filled the night air. Down at the Room of the Round, one final meeting was held. The storm of Saxons would hit tomorrow, and hell would be unleashed in the days to come. Guinevere sat by her husband, gently stroking his hand as he spoke. The slightest glance at his love made my heart break with suffering. Surely he must sense something is wrong. She was paler still, as white as the old tales of ghosts. Her frail figure no longer contained its strength, and she was wasting away before our eyes. She looked over as I entered, and her stare said it all. She would not tell anyone her condition. Stubborn lass.

I kept my pain within. Gawain seemed unusually stiff, unsure of what tomorrow would bring. Aedan sat beside him, almost excited but trying desperately to conceal it. It would be his first battle, after all. Many a young man had that look before charging into the pool of blood. Gafran was to his left, smirking over at his uncle, who did not even gaze over at his sister's son. I am not afraid of you, his thoughts seemed to drift over. I felt a chill rise within me, and I told myself to talk with the lad before he retired. Something was not right with him, and we needed him strong tomorrow.

As for myself, I let my thoughts drift back to the Battle of Badon, a little over a year ago. How scared I was, how green and utterly useless I had felt back then. Tis not boasting to say I've come a long way since then, learning the ways of the warrior. To think of any other life than where I was at this moment, surrounded by my brothers is impossible. Though my heart was beating faster and faster, almost in tune with the enemy drums hailing nearer to the Wall, I managed to keep a calm and focused complexion. Inside I was a mess.

Lancelot would not look at anyone, especially me, for which I do not blame him. He stared off into an unknown abyss, probably remembering past battles as I had done. He had cut his hair, its length returning to its short form, as when I first met the knight. I liked it short.

Lord Cormack brought forth two scouts, who revealed the locations of the coming Saxons in relation to our border. By nightfall tomorrow, they would be at our doorstep. With great care Arthur revealed our first form of attack. Oil was to be dripped in the field before the Wall, separating the legions as we had done at Badon. Archers always went first. Our cavalry was to then ride forth and flank the right half of the enemy as the archers took out the left, bunching them in the middle. Hopefully the new Saxon leader will send atleast ¾ of his men in after.

I tried to listen as Arthur went over the plan of action for the fourth time. We will have the high ground, and in order for the Saxons to reach us, they will have to climb over the endless boulders the Woads release. The plan seemed feasible, considering we were so largely outnumbered.

We were told to sleep well that night, for who knew when we would rest our eyes again in the days to come. Very few took this advice. Out in the village, candles were lit in every window, in hopes of victory. In the morning the villagers would pack up and leave to the mountain country northward. I went to the stables; my place of solace. As I tenderly brushed the hairs of my battlehorse, I whispered praise to my Lord and requested safety for my men as the battle drew nearer. The brown mare stared at me with its coal black eyes, flicking its ears as a response.

Out on the practice field, I could see the outline of a young man ruthless thrusting its sword in a pattern far more complex than I could do. Gafran was always a silent killer, expert in expounding his energy without raising his voice for more effect. A new player emerged in the darkness and took his place facing my Rider, his sword unsheathed and mocking its edge toward Gafran.

I was hidden at the edge of the stables, but could hear and see the confrontation take place. "I had hoped you'd be here," Lord Cormack stated in a firm tone.

Though I could only see the outline of his features, I knew Gafran was seething within. "I did not think you would come to Camelot."

The elder chuckled. "My loyalties lie with my king, young one, and I will help when needed. I should hope the same from you…but then again, you are your father's offspring." Their blades pointed at each other as they circled. I raised my eyebrow, unsure of this confrontation. Was it a mere exercise, or something more?

"And you have reminded me daily of it, uncle. For fifteen years I have never been referred to as your nephew, but my father's whelp. When will I be considered my mother's son?"

Blades clashed, and still I was unsure whether this was a match of words or a fight that would end in bloodshed. They pivoted and thrusted, blocking each swing blow for blow. It seemed the Lord Cormack had taught his nephew everything he knew about swordsmanship.

Cormack smirked. "Prove to me your worth during the battle, Gafran. Prove to me your innocence by killing your king's enemy. I trained you to be the best so that one day you shall redeem the good name of this family that your father ruined!" The Lord used this opportunity to kick the boy's ankle, thus tripping him. Gafran fell and Cormack thrashed his sword out of the boy's hand. I narrowed my eyes in disgust. Aedan was right when he described the kind of life Gafran had with a monster like Cormack. A monster to his nephew he may be, part of me stated, but an asset to Arthur's army.

He leaned in close, closer than I would have liked had I been Gafran. "Personally I hope you fall under a Saxon blade. Ironic, wouldn't it be?" Odd, I thought. I wonder what his words meant.

Gafran didn't respond, he simply sat until his uncle walked away. I made my move when the Lord Cormack closed the door into the tower behind him. Gafran was picking up his sword when I approached.

I was to his back when he said, "You saw it, didn't you?" He turned around to face me, his face red with anger.

"Yes."

He sheathed his sword and walked over to a nearby rock, squatting down. "I would like to be alone, Captain." His tone was commanding and firm, not wanting to be disobeyed. However, I was the superior.

"Request, if anyone would call that a request, is denied. You don't have to talk about what just happened with me, Gafran…but you will explain your actions for yesterday. Leaving the grounds without permission is a punishable offense!"

He didn't know how to back down, and stared at me with contempt. "I had business to take care of," he pertly stated, willing me to react harshly.

"I see. Too proud to admit you left to subdue your anger over seeing your uncle? If your worried I'll take pity on you…don't be. I see now the kind of life you have had to endure, but believe me Gafran…your anger solves nothing. Let go this hate and focus on victory tomorrow. It pains me to say it, but I have need of you, as does Arthur. Your of more worth than you think."

He guffawed maliciously. "You mean my skills are of worth! And forgive me, Captain, but you know nothing of pain." He stood up and began to walk back to his quarters. "Tomorrow I will prove my worth."

I could not think of anything to say. His behavior was inexcusable, and many a officer would have ended his title as Rider right then. But he was right. I needed his skills tomorrow. Let him sulk, my mind stated. I needed rest, not a head ache over what to do with a confused boy like Gafran.

The warning bell rang out at dawn as the villagers started to move out, with Jols leading them. Soon after, scouts reported a large group of about fifty warriors that were neither Woad nor Saxon approaching Hadrian's Wall from the west, traveling at lightning speed. Arthur commanded thirty soldiers plus my Riders to ride out and confront them.

We saddled quickly and I led the team away from the Wall and toward the Western Forest, where the scouts had reported the group had stopped with a flag bearing friendship.

As we neared, I dismounted from my horse, as did the others as we crept along. Down in the quarry stood the warriors, standing with their weapons on but not in confrontation. The flag still wavered as I made our presence known.

"I think my eyes are deceiving me, Captain….are those Irish?" Aedan exclaimed, and a murmor went through the soldiers.

Sure enough, I found myself grinning. Coming out of one of the main tents was a girl of teenage years with blonde hair bearing the mark of the boar on her shield. An older man emerged beside her, placing one hand on her shoulder as she led him to our party, her look somber but her eyes playful with delight.

Avery stood to my left, trying immensely to hide his glee. The warrior girl looked into his eyes for a moment, then turned her attention on me. I raised my hand, the soldiers behind me lowering their spears and swords.

"Greetings, Captain Arria of the King's Riders. Forgive our intrusion of your majesty's land, but it is with peace we come," she stated, her Latin almost perfect. An interpreter for the Irish warriors behind her sounded her speech. She continued. "Might I present my father, Lord Hail of Crestwind and leader of Cuhatain Clan." Her father stepped forward. He was of middle age with dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were weary to trust, but loving for his daughter.

"My daughter explained to me the crisis occurring in the land of Briton. Though our two lands have been at war for centuries, the Cuhatain Clan wishes to pledge an alliance with your King in the hopes that Saxons shall never reach our shores. Sorcha told me what you have done for her, and for that I am grateful. Please consider this only an allegiance to protect our lands…once we have won, I cannot promise peace between our two nations."

I couldn't help but grin. "I cannot speak on behalf of my king, but for myself you are most welcome. Come, there is no time to waste- we must reach Hadrian's Wall before midday and start assembling the warriors. Your extra men will be most helpful in part of our plan."

The Irish Lord of Crestwind nodded to his daughter, and signaled his men to quickly pack and begin the journey toward Camelot. I rode alongside Hail, and paired Sorcha with Avery behind us. Aedan struck up conversation with Hail's second in command as we rode along, finding a common dialect to use.

"This king of yours..I had heard he was Roman, yet he chooses to elect women as warriors?" Sorcha's father stated, not so much in question form. I could hear the edge of respect in his tone.

"Indeed. Arthur believes all humanity to be equal, and he stands for freedom against the oppressors. For some strange reason he sensed some strength in me, to give me such a title. Could you believe I used to be Roman?"

He raised an eyebrow, and at that moment looked very similar to his daughter. "Odd land, Briton is. Interesting characters."

"Perhaps…when all is well and the Saxons are vanquished, your people could visit more, under better terms."

He chuckled. "Many in Ireland think my clan is crazy to give aid to the enemy. If not for Sorcha, this mission would not be occurring. However, already some of my doubts are proving to be untrue."

"Doubts?"

"Well, I never expected to be having a civilized conversation with a Roman female turned British Captain over peace between two lands that have been warring for centuries."

"Indeed, it does sound strange. Perhaps we should speak later on this. Right now I should probably fill you in on some of our military tactics. The Saxons will be upon us come morning."

Behind me, I heard Sorcha let out a giggle as Avery laughed whole heartedly. It was then that I prayed for victory, for hope that peace will exist.

When we reached Camelot, Arthur, as I predicted, welcomed our visitors enthusiastically and bade the Lord Hail to confer with him strategies and the like. Tobias took the new men into their own barracks, far from the rest of the soldiers. The last thing we needed was some old rivalries and blood oaths to be brought up between Irish and Briton.

Gawain approached me as the sun fell, complaining that Gafran tried to start something between himself and a young Irish braggart. The fight was quickly drawn off before much notice would come of it. I ripped my nails through my hair. "That boy will be the death of me, I swear!".

"Leave it be, Cap'n. We'll deal with Gafran after this bloody business with the Saxons is over. Keep yer wits about you….um….speaking of wits…I better leave." He stopped staring behind me and fled from the barracks, leaving me utterly puzzled. I turned around to face what Gawain had been so nervous about. The hairs on my arms raised.

"Lancelot, I cannot deal with this right now. There is too much at stake to-" He silenced me quickly, a look of sheer hunger in his eyes as he threw his arms across my back in an embrace as his lips found exactly what they were looking for. I closed my eyes and let his body touch mine, his lips parting from my mouth and caressing my cheek and neck and ear. At first all I could do was moan, my body screaming its excitement.

"No…Lancelot…" I whispered, even my voice not wanting to listen to my mind. I found the courage I needed and used what strength I could to push him slightly off me.

"No," I stated, with more force. He looked straight into my eyes….the kind of look that exposes your true self within.

To my surprise, I found he was smiling. "I knew you would push me away. Forgive me, Arria…but I needed that before tomorrow came. I'm sorry." I blinked three times with my mouth open as he started to walk away. I looked around and saw that no one was near.

I ran. I ran as hard as I could and caught up with him before he could round the corner, before my brain could process my actions. Your not being sensible, part of me commanded. I brushed that thought away, and wrapped my arms around his neck. I kissed him harder than I ever had before, letting my hands push against his head as I moaned the ecstasy of it.

He let me do this, and kissed me back with just as much force. We let this go on for minutes, but to me it was an eternity of elation. Finally we reduced the length of them, until our lips slowly started to back away from each other. I opened my eyes and stared into his, a hidden lust revealing itself. I could see a part of me reflecting off his eyes, and saw the same lust in them. A pain in my gut sounded, demanding to acknowledge my strength being destroyed by sheer sultriness.

My hands were gently placed on his cheeks as he breathed deeply on to me. "I…I…I…." Compose yourself, I commanded. "Perhaps I needed that too. This means nothing, Lancelot" I stated with authority. I still had my pride, though my heart felt sick from it.

He grinned boyishly. "As you wish, Captain. Though I will get you back to me one day. One day, lioness."

I was too shocked to reply at first. I smiled my confusion. "I think not, sir knight! I am not some prize to be won! I will choose whom I love, you will not make that choice!"

He grinned again and rounded the corner, out of my view. I leaned against the wall, unsure of what just happened. Exhaling sharply and loudly, I shook my head. Of all the times to start thinking about love, this was the absolute worst.

"How dare he…" I stated to the wall. Inwardly my heart chuckled, as if this game was some type of foreplay for something greater. Well, one thing is certain, my mind stated. He knows how to push me. I began to walk away, and against my will a slight smile began to form on my mouth.


	22. Losing Sight

Aw, thanks so much for all your support during this story! The end is near! AHHH! Enjoy

Misguided Roses Chapter 22

All throughout the day scouts rang reports of more and more Saxons approaching. They made camp a few miles southwest of here, scattering the heads of local villagers on display in an attempt to numb our courage. The thought of their indifference to human life caused goose bumps to form on my arms.

As we had expected, we were largely outnumbered. But battles were won with valor and intellect, not sheer strength in numbers. Arthur reminded us this. As I strolled through the military camps, I made sure to look at every man, for they were fighting for the same cause as I, and some would inevitably never see the sun rise again. I tasted the terror that ached at a soldier's heart as one clutched his daughter's doll, as another shakily prayed to his pagan gods. Wives who had chosen to stay with their husbands were now openly showcasing their affection on the makeshift beds, some crying as others passionately kissed their lovers, knowing somehow that this was their last night together.

I found myself aching for human comfort at that moment. Just an acknowledgement that I would be remembered. I would not let my heart retort with an answer of who would most likely want to display his love for me then and there. Dark clouds formed above me; an omen of depressive thought.

A spark of joy erupted through me as I spotted Avery playing a trick on Tobias as the boy napped against a tree. The screams of horror lasted for only a moment as Tobias realized his assailant was laughing hysterically.

"Honestly, you hairless git, didn't your mother ever teach you manners!" Tobias said as he desperately tried whacking his friend with a nearby stick.

Avery dodged it and hid behind the tree. "No, I believe it was your mother who taught me a thing or two last night-"

I shook my head as Tobias ran to pommel his comrade. Avery ran up to where I was standing and stood behind me like a five year old child. "Honestly, Avery….sleeping with his mother jokes? I thought you were capable of far better retorts…"

He kept his eyes on Tobias, ignoring my comment. "Just trying to liven up your spirits, mate!" He called to his friend as he looked over my shoulder.

"Boys, enough this instant!" I harrowed, taking both by the ears as they howled their pain. "I did not put so much effort into your training to see two respectable Riders kill each other before the battle even begins!"

I let go and both rubbed their now aching ears. "Cap'n, he exposed me when I was asleep and dropped something..er…down there…!" Tobias whined, his cheeks a deep red.

"Serves you right for being that vulnerable! Now Avery…please can you keep yourself occupied without annoying the others?" He nodded, though a wide grin was still plastered on his face.

"Right…now, if you two would be so kind as to-" I stopped as a rider approached, calling my name in the courtyard as the hundreds of soldiers started to move.

"Captain Arria!" He called again before stopping his mare in front of me. "His Majesty requests the your presence in the Room of the Round immediately."

I nodded my understanding and turned to Avery and Tobias. "Please behave, and go round up the others. I will need to give a full report after I get back. Stay in the stables."

They chorused their 'yes mam's and left to go find Gabriel, Aedan and Gafran as I ventured into the fort. I met Bors on the way in and he gave me a quick pat on the back. "Fine day for killin, ain't it Cap'n?" he grunted and guffawed his glee.

I did not share his enthusiasm on the matter, but smiled nonetheless. "I thought you'd be at home with Vanora watching over the refuges."

"Paw! You'd think I'd miss the chance to splatter a few Saxon brains across the field? Haha, I thought you knew me, Arria." I simply shook my head. "Besides, Vanora was biting my head off. Neva been alone with her so much. Hafta get away from the love of your life every now and then ey?"

We opened the door and took our places beside Gawain and Lord Cormack. I tried hard not to look at the villain…the way he treated Gafran contrasted so heavily with how he felt for this country, and I didn't trust him one bit.

"The villagers have all been evacuated, and I'm sending the legions right towards the edge of the Wall. My guess is that this new Saxon leader, Elmric, will not fight until dawn. However, we must be ready for a surprise attack in the night. Currently some of the men are building tents near the Western Forest. Hopefully this little disguise will have Elmric ordering fire archers to target it instead of us. In the meantime, Arria, I need one or two of your men to sneak as close as they can into the enemy base. This is a dangerous assignment, but any sort of sabotage would do well. This isn't like last time, friends. We are outnumbered by incredible odds, and any small thing you can think of to thwart their advances is most welcome."

"Your Highness, might I be allowed to-" I started, but he, Guinevere, Lancelot, and Gawain all chorused a 'no'!.

"We need you here, Captain," Guinevere stated. It was the first time she had spoken at one of our meetings since her father had been killed. She was as pale as ever, but a fire was burning bright in her eyes, the kind of courage you rarely see. She was ready for this battle, sickness or no sickness. She was still a warrior.

I could not reply, but bit my lower lip in frustration. Beside me, I noticed Gawain shifting his knee up and down irritably. Now, mind, I have never seen Gawain nervous before a fight. I had never seen Gawain nervous period. Not a good sign in the least.

After a few more motions, our last bit of ale was brought forth. "Comrades, friends- I'm afraid I'm tired of giving this same speech to you-" Bors and I chuckled as Lancelot smiled at Gawain. "So instead of all those disgusting words of honor and chivalry you loathe to hear me speak of, perhaps tonight we shall simply drink to right here…right now. To the best warriors in the west!"

"Here Here!" Lancelot cheered, gulping down his drink.

"Nay, to the best warriors across the oceans and beyond!" Bors reckoned.

"I'll drink to that!" Gawain said cheerfully. Guinevere produced a small laugh, one that Arthur noticed with great relief. I watched as he squeezed her hand, eyeing her lovingly. I need not explain what they will be doing later, if all goes quiet-

"Highness! HIGHNESS!" A young page came dashing through the doors as we finished our toast, a look of sheer terror on his face. "Fire, your Majesty! The barracks and stables are burning!"

The charcoaled remains were swept up in the wind, burning our eyes as I watched the last of the flames put out. My mind was numb to thought. It had all happened so quickly. The barracks nearest the stables was the worst hit- but luckily the men had put out most of the rising flames before anymore of the quarters could be engulfed. Most of the horses were saved, but it seemed a few men were missing, presumed dead. One factor that scared many was that many of the bows, arrows, and spears that were kept, until now, safely stored in the barracks, were charred beyond saving. In a few hours time a months' worth of preparation had -literally-burned to the core. I could hear the Saxons laughing in my head, grinning at the thought of our foolishness.

Night was upon us, but luckily, for some odd reason, the Saxons did not attack when we were most vulnerable. They wanted to keep us weary, so that when dawn broke our strength would dwindle.

I sat against an stone outpost overlooking the hundreds of fires set up to our west. I felt as if walls were cornering me in, slowly binding me until I exploded. I put my head between my legs, unsure of what to think...what to do. Before even the fires had been put out, I had sent Gabriel and Tobias to do as Arthur bid them and wreak any sort of hell-without getting caught. They had been dousing flames by the stables, along with Aedan and Avery when I left the Room of the Round. I remember seeing the fire, my mind going into a state of shock.

_"What happened?" I had screamed, picking up a bucket and running toward the well. Smoke was billowing out of the stable as horses screamed their fright. Two of the stable boys were bravely leading as many horses out as they could, covering the horses eyes with sheets. _

"Look out!" Aedan called, knocking me to the ground as one of the wooden poles gave way from above. It hit right where I was standing, and I shook my head from the fall.

"You alright?" he asked, full of worry as he lay on top of me, his face scourged with gray smoke. I gave a slight cough, but nodded as he helped me up.

By now the stable was too enflamed to save, so many men moved on to the building beside it, trying to prevent it, too, from burning. "What happened?" I repeated, my voice getting hoarse from the hazy smoke thickening the air around us, enveloping us in its terror.

Aedan could not answer, his eyes simply showed the deepest hurt I had ever seen. It was then that I noticed one side of his head was bleeding. He had been hit by something, hard. "Aedan, your hurt- what-"

Avery answered for him. "Later, Captain. Focus on the task at hand." There was something soothing in his voice.

"Right….Tobias! Gabriel!" I called over to them as they were about to head to the barracks with water. I tried keeping a calm face.

"Leave this job for someone else. The fires will stop, they will not spread. Please…Arthur has need of you for a mission."

I replayed these events through my mind, unnerved that this had happened so close to battle. A hand on my shoulder stirred my thoughts, and I looked up to see Avery, outstretched with a flask of water. I took it and drank, the cool liquid rushing down my throat in gratefulness.

He gave me a forced smile and sat beside me, his huge sigh a sign that I was about to hear bad news. "Arthur says he needs to speak with you."

I grunted and remained where I was. I stared ahead of me, knowing that an immense pain was about to befall my already unstable emotions. "Something happened, Avery- your face…Aedan's look of pain. Something besides the fire." I gulped in my saliva and winced at my words. "Gafran's missing."

Avery inhaled deeply and rubbed his face, as if what he was about to say was harder than any mission we had faced, harder than any weapons practice. "After you left for your meeting, Tobias and I found Aedan and Gafran near the stables, and then we went to look for Gabriel. When we came back…The stable was already on fire…as well as the nearby barracks, and Aedan was lying unconscious outside."

I narrowed my eyes in confusion and cocked my head to the side, waiting for more. It seemed to take every ounce of strength for him to go on. "As men started calling for help, Aedan came 'round- Arria…" he stopped and looked into my eyes with sorrow. He had never uttered my name before. "He said…he said Gafran did this."

A cold feeling swept over me, and it seemed the world grew darker within. "No." I stated with authority. "We have no time for this, Avery. In a few hours the Saxons-"

"Arria" he said again, this time with more care. "Gafran sabotaged us. He staged this. Presumably he fled and went over to the Saxons."

I shook my head, unable to believe it. "No, Avery. Where's Aedan? I have to hear this for myself from him."

He grabbed my arm before I could go. "He's already told us this story once. Don't make him share it again."

I stared hard at him. "Surely you don't believe our comrade, our brother in arms…Gafran's bled with us, Avery!" I shouted, standing up and pacing about. "He wouldn't betray us."

Avery took his gentle hands and laid them on my shoulder, his face far too close…

"I don't want to believe it, Arria. But Aedan told us Gafran hit him from behind, and fled, setting one of the torches in the hay. Before Aedan was unconscious…he said Gafran dragged him out front…out of danger, so Aedan says. Gafran spoke to him. He said, 'you will not win this fight against the Saxons. They will triumph, as shall I. Leave, before its too late.' " He shook his head at that last statement, full of rage.

None of it made sense. Gafran made an oath to Arthur…he would not betray us, especially not after what he said to his uncle…Realization dawned. He had told his uncle he would show what he was made of….I remember the look he gave me, a hidden shadow surrounding his words. He was out to get revenge. He…he might have been selling secrets to the Saxons for months…

"Avery, we have to find him! We need to save him!"  
Avery narrowed his eyes in anger at me. "From who? Himself? Lord Cormack? Arthur! He betrayed us, Captain. I told Arthur and the others what happened. We have all vowed vengeance of his treachery…"

My thoughts guided back to Titus… a man who had also betrayed us. But in the end he had repented. A song started to make its way into my mind…the song Lancelot had sung in the stables…the same song of sorrow Gafran sang on our first expenditure. "No! Avery, listen to me! There is still good in him, I know it! He's…yes, he's done a terrible thing and must be punished, but I must find him, Avery. I have to know there is good in him!"

He stared at me for a cold moment, but softened his gaze. "Your blaming yourself. You cannot save him, Captain. He chose this road, and will be dealt with under the extremist penalties. There's nothing you could have done to prevent this. I'm afraid this doesn't even come as a shock to me. Gafran's always…well…I never quite knew what he was capable of…" He sighed. "Arthur's wanting to speak with you."

_Your wrong_, I thought to myself. _If Gafran has truly been deceiving us for this long, then the blame rests in me alone. Something that I must rectify. _Old memories flashed before me…the night that Gafran had sung that song. He had apologized to me. Against his bitterness and rage within, he felt sorry for what he did to me the night we met. "There's still good in him." I repeated strongly, more to myself than to Avery. He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. Instead, he put his arm on my back, leading me to Arthur.

Gafran's apparent betrayal led to an even darker hour as the Saxons prepared for war. Arthur was simply checking to make sure I was alright, but he spoke little of his pain. The others were too emotional to speak of it, some wearing hard expressions on their faces. Aedan would not look at me.

Finally the time had come. Arthur came out of his chambers, dressed in his finest armor. He had forgone his Roman chest plate and replaced it with one that bore the emblem of a lion. Lancelot's plate matched Gawain and Bors- all were engrained with the Sarmatian horse, the words of truth, love and justice molded right above. I took a risk and let my eyes meet his…only for a moment. But it was enough. A newfound strength enveloped me as he nodded his head. I opened my mouth to say something, anything. Perhaps to apologize for my pride…perhaps to give some sort of comforting words. But nothing came. No words needed to be said right then and there. He understood everything I was feeling without even so much as gazing at my expression. He winked softly, his devilish grin appearing amidst so much turmoil.

Jols had set new armor for me in my quarters. Attached to it was a note. His note. I grabbed it first before even looking at the design on the chest plate. "You'll always be my lioness" was all it said. A warmth filled me as my eyes wandered over to the armor. It was made of iron, yet somehow it was lightweight. The shoulder plates were embellished with gold designs, matching those on the helmet. I let a small chuckle pass through my lips as I gazed at the chest. Two very size fitting breast lumps protruded from it, and I knew instantly it would be comfortable across my chest. "Of course HE would know the exact size of my breasts.." I muttered to myself.

On the left side of the chest plate a raging lioness growled its ferocity while standing on its hind legs. On the right, a war horse defiantly stood with its hooves aimed forward, ready to attack. In the middle was the Sarmatian code, only here it was written in Latin. Veritas, Aequitas, Amore. He had forged everything about me on this, and to my surprise I saw that my shield matched in design. I put a hand over my mouth in wonder, staring for a moment at such a wealthy gift.

A few minutes later I emerged from my chambers, dressed from head to toe in armor. My sword was sheathed on my right side, the dagger of Dagonet on my left. As I entered the courtyard, everyone was lined up as Arthur made his way through the men, shaking hands in diplomatic style, encouraging them all to be brave. Guinevere stood by, once more her body painted blue from the Woad plant, wearing only enough to cover her privates. No more was her frail features visible. Her eyes shown defiantly, ready to lead her people to battle.

Bors took one last shot of ale from his flask, wiping away the drips from his chin. "I'm feeling lucky!" he shouted.

Gawain was right beside him, ready to mount his steed. "Any more drink and you'll be slicing off your own arm by accident…" Bors laughed gingerly, apparently ridding himself of fear and anger.

A lieutenant guided the hordes of men forward. We would meet the enemy right outside the Wall, away from Camelot. The Woads did not follow, instead Guinevere lead them north They were to make their way around the Western Forest and flank the Saxons from behind. Guinevere kissed her husband, letting one tear drop down her cheek as he embraced her.

Passing me, she bent down and grasped my hand. "Do not let him fall, Arria. Do not let him fall…" she stated shakily.

I gripped her hand. "I won't, my Lady. Take care of yourself." There was no point in telling her her condition was far too advance to be galloping off to battle.

She smiled warmly at me, touching my cheek. "You've done well. You will not fail." As the Woads passed by, a knot in my stomach formed, and I bit down on my lip, knowing her fate.

Sorcha stood nearby with her Irish warriors, beeming at me her loyalty for being here. Avery sat on his mare beside her, showing nervousness over the blood about to spilt.

Lord Cormack pushed his horse towards me as I mounted. "I suppose we'll find out today if a woman can match a man in combat." Strange words to say, and the wrong ones for all the hate I felt.

"Yes, we shall. Tell me, do you take any responsibility for Gafran's actions?"

He sniffed his nose and titled his chin up in pure snobbery. "Of course not, girl. The boy has only to blame himself. Although I knew this day would come. His scum of a father-"

"It is YOU who are the scum!" I shouted, my horse tense and moving around. "Personally I hope you fall today, my Lord. It would give me great pleasure to know there is one less rat infesting this earth." I was boiling inside, replaying his fight with Gafran earlier in my mind, his cruel words taunting…

He only smiled. "Big words, little girl. I do not have to remind you that I am fighting for OUR king…I gave Arthur fifty of my men to sacrifice today. Know your place."

"That's enough!" Aedan called, riding near. "The enemy is the Saxons, not each other. Quit your bickering and ride forth!". I stared at him. It was the first time he had given authority over me. His face was a deep shade of red, fuming with emotions.

I did not talk for the rest of the ride. We arrived shortly after, taking our positions where Arthur wanted us. I was with the archers, ready to shoot when signaled. The Saxons were huge in number; the thousands of them taking up the entire field and into the Forest as they beat their drums with great effect. The horses shifted nervously as we dismounted.

Gawain went round and lit the tips of our arrows with fire, the flames rising. About a hundred yards away, the Saxons boomed their war cries. I foolishly found myself looking for Gafran among the bloodthirsty faces. Please be gone, I told him. Don't do this. Arthur raised his flag, and with a robust voice sounded, "FIRE!" The battle for Camelot was about to begin.


	23. Always

Misguided Roses Chapter 23

The attack began accordingly. Many a Saxon fell to our arrows, and the fire spread to the oil beneath us, separating their legions as their warrior leaders shouted out orders. Their archers answered our call, and I raised my shield over my body, hoping everyone beside me did likewise. The arrows struck like thunder as cries rang out among the wounded, the smell of fear filling the air. Down below, while the Saxons were distracted, Arthur commanded the cavalry to ride into the left half of one of the three legions. Above us, hawks, crows and other scavengers of the air awaited the bloodshed, the feast beginning.

The Saxon leader Elmric shouted his orders, and his middle infantry bellowed their way forward towards us, swords raised in attack. I strapped my bow behind my back and mounted Marrin, many others doing likewise. The Woads waited in the trees, ready for us to bring the unsuspecting legion into the forest. Instead of rushing forward to meet the enemy head on, he retreated back into the woods, making sure they were still following. Corwin, the Woad leader, nodded at me as I whisked our men right, across the huge boulders and making our way toward the right flank of Saxons, still conceiling ourselves behind bushes. The mist had begun to make its way as expected, and the Saxons entered the clearing before the forest with nervousness. As we hid, the Woads shot down from the trees on the Saxons like hunters devouring their prey. Many tried running deeper into the woods, only to be met by more ghostlike warriors tearing their flesh. They were in Woad territory- where few escaped.

I did not wait to see how well the Woad warriors faired. Instead, Gawain and I signaled the men to keep low and exit the Forest near the right flank. I looked over to see the cavalry having a difficult time with the Saxons over on the left side. Lancelot and Aedan were with them, fighting feverishly as comrades fell. Gawain shouted the order to attack, and we emerged from our hiding to strike the enemy.

Surprise overtook them as we embraced the right flank in battle, clashing our swords in anger. Only the thought to survive overtook me as I slashed my way forward, slicing one man's arm off as another fell chest first into my sword. I ducked the onslaught of an axe just in time, and as I was down I tripped the assailant to the ground, stabbing my dagger into his stomach. Another man rushed forward towards me as I stood, and I quickly wielded my sword to parry the blow, then, with my free hand, slashed Dag's dagger across his face, blood spewing everywhere as he screamed. Beside me, Gawain bashed open the head of one attacker. I quickly wiped the blood from my eye in time to see a rather burly man whip his axe above him, ready to cut down on my head. I dodged the blow with my shield, and a loud pang rendered my shield arm aching. He was strong, and I used this opportunity while his axe was down to push up my shield, the top of it hitting his chin as he fell back.

Sorcha, riding atop a white mare, used her horse to finish the large man off as hoof connected with head. I locked eyes with her, signaling my thanks, but on to the next Saxon she went, myself doing likewise. I felt something bury into my thigh as I howled my pain. Looking up, I saw a smug Saxon with his crossbow aiming now for my chest. Taking another knife from my belt, I threw it forward like Guinevere had taught me, and before he could release his dart the knife plummeted itself through his heart. Kill, kill, my mind screamed as body after body fell under my blade. I took a moment to dislodge the arrow from my thigh as new pain thundered. "Captain, look out!" Avery shouted as a Saxon came from behind me. I jerked my body right, burying my sword through the Saxon.

Avery stood beside me as we fought the enemy. I kept my shield strapped behind me, so as not to let anyone stab me, literally, in the back. A young blonde hit me from the side, the butt of his blade hitting my cheek. The blow offset me, and my balance wavered. He then took a slash to my shoulder, and for that I head butted him, slitting his throat. My left arm throbbed, as did my right ankle, though I was unsure of what happened.

The only sounds I heard were screams as man after man fell to my blade. I knew I was acquiring more wounds by the minute…but the pain ceased in my mind as my goal became clear. It was evident the whole right side of the Saxons were decimated, and it was time to meet the huge onslaught in the middle of the field where Arthur had forced the left flank to move. The Woads had emerged from the trees, small in number.

After taking a hard slash to my sword arm, I cursed the mothers who bore these Saxon bastards. I let countless memories flounce through my mind as my blade met the flesh of my enemies: playing with Domitia and Marciana in Rome as father laughed, boosting Galahad's ego when we sparred, reading with Alecto, gossiping with Guinevere, watching as my Riders played pranks on one another. My happiest memories were showcased before my eyes, in hopes that I would continue to live.

Beside me, I watched with horror as Gawain took a serious spear wound to his side, and I immediately gutted the man before he could finish my friend off. Gawain faltered a bit, but shook his head and in a menacing cry, stormed back into the fray as blood poured out of him.

I could hear Bors somewhere behind me, shouting unusual curses as he struck. Looking over, I could tell the entire cavalry had been defeated, and many were now on foot battling the Saxons that butchered their horses with spears. A low rumble came from a part of the Forest that had been overlooked. I watched with horror…as hundreds of Saxons enveloped the field…Saxons we had not taken into account from before. Before, it might have been possible to witness victory. I looked to Gawain and he met my eyes. We both knew we could not possibly defeat so many. Beside me, an Irish warrior took a blow to his head, falling at my feet. Behind, a Woad cried its last breath as the Saxon dog slit his throat.

"Arria!" Gawain called, slashing his way over to me. "You know what we must do."

I clenched my fist. "But…we can hold out…maybe if we…"

"We cannot win!" he screamed, decapitating a man with his axe. I screamed my anger, whirling around to strike a man between his legs.

Before another Saxon could come at me, I turned back to Gawain. "Get Bors and follow me! I saw Arthur about a hundred yards east! We have to hurry!"

We made our way through the fights, Bors in the lead, killing anyone who got in our way. Aedan saw us and followed, knowing what we were about to do. Finally I could see Arthur in the distance, battling what looked to be the leader, Elmric.

I could see Guinevere also making her way through the madness, slashing to get to her husband. A Saxon kept Bors from advancing, and I began to watch as Arthur furiously battled with the enemy, matching every blow for blow. Guinevere was closest, her eyes displaying a ferocity I had seen only once before. She gutted one man, punching the other in the face. I noticed she was limping, an arrow still caught on the back of her ankle.

Suddenly the Saxon leader caught Arthur unaware, and kicked him down to the ground. As Arthur fell, Elmric swung his blade, making Arthur's sword barrell out of his hand.

Guinevere saw this too…and for a brief moment, our minds locked, hers saying, 'get him out of here!'. She jumped forward, clashing her blade against Elmric's before he could finish the British king off. Ten men stood between us and the fight. I slashed forward, killing a man instantly as Bors did the same. Gawain was having trouble and Aedan rushed to his side. Out of the corner of my left eye I could see Guinevere's fight, her eyes taunting the huge Saxon that threatened everything she stood for. Elmric was a large, burly man of about six and a half feet. He was bald on top, but had a long red beard tied in a braid. His eyes were cold and merciless, and it was easy to see many feared his gaze. Not Guinevere. She lashed forward, parrying his blows as Arthur dragged backward to retrieve his blade.

I was distracted for a moment as I battled a small soldier. He narrowed his eyes at me, thrusting his spear to gut me. I blocked it with my sword, and with my other hand I threw my knife into him.

The most horrifying sound erupted in front of me. I quickly looked up over the body of my most recent slain to see both Bors and Aedan battling Elmric, as Arthur sat clutching something.

My heart pounded faster and faster and I found myself retching any food left in me. It was as if the battle began to move in slow motion. My head became heavy as I stared, my eyes transfixed on my king.

Arthur stroked her head, her eyes closed as she lay before him. Blood was pouring from her chest, where the sword had struck. It was an instant kill.

There was no time to think or cry. A hatred so deep welled up in me, and I released my fury on the few that got in my way. By the time I made it over, Bors had slain the Saxon leader as Aedan tried to pry Arthur from his beloved queen. Avery had made it over, and he and Gawain were keeping anyone who tried to attack from getting to us.

"We need to get her to a healer!" Arthur called, caressing her cheek with his fingers.

"She's gone, your Majesty," Aedan said, barely above a whisper. Arthur shook his head, not willing it to be so. "We have to leave, my king. The battle is lost."

"NO!" he screamed. "We shall not leave! It is our fate to die here! I will not leave her!"

I rushed over to his side, looking down at the body of my friend. "Arthur" I called gently. "We must go, you must live-"

"If she is dead then I cannot live," he cried, shaking Aedan's hand away.

I touched his arm. "You are king, Arthur. You cannot desert your people. You carry the seeds of the future. If you live there is hope that everything Britain is will survive."

"I don't care! Leave me!" he screamed, his eyes burning with sorrow.

I noticed Gawain and Avery having a hard time keeping the battle from reaching us. I raised my voice in frustration. "WHAT WOULD GUINEVERE HAVE YOU DO? SIT HERE SELFISHLY LETTING EVERYTHING WE'VE BUILT GO TO WASTE, OR RUN AND SEEK JUSTICE ANOTHER DAY?"

I struck a nerve, and he looked down on her ghostlike face. He breathed heavily, and bent down to kiss her softly on the lips…one last time. He whispered something I shall never know, and with one last touch, Aedan pulled our king up as we made our way north.

The fights were finishing, as Saxons realized their leader was dead. They had won, but it would take them months to sort out a new leader. Bors lead the way, followed by Aedan and Arthur, with Gawain and I bringing up the rear. Avery looked back onto the battlefield.

"Avery, come! We need to reach Willow's Peak!" I called.

He looked at me, then back to the field. "I'm sorry, Captain. Sorcha's still down there! I cannot leave her!" Without another word he ran as fast as he could back to the reddening pasture. The retreat horn sounded, as many of our soldiers stopped their fights and made their way north. Aedan stopped and stood beside me.

"Avery, Gabriel and Tobias are still down there," I said to him.

Aedan furrowed his brow and took my hand in his. "They are your Riders, Captain."

I stared at him, watching as he brushed back a few curly strands of golden hair behind his ear. "Indeed. And we shall not leave one behind."

Down the hill we went as parts of the battle still ensued. Soldiers craving vengeance slaughtered their foes, and soon we found Avery and Sorcha in the midst of a fight. Sorcha was still atop her horse, and lifted Avery up behind her. "To the Peak!" I called, and Avery nodded, telling Sorcha where to go.

We filed our way through the bodies of the deceased as the ravens began their feast. Gabriel was severely wounded, and Jols was helping him walk but was having a difficult time. A Saxon fell upon them, and I raised my knife, throwing it squarely into his heart.

"Get him to high ground!" I called, still searching for Tobias. Aedan ran beside me as we fought our way forward. Most of the Saxons were now falling back to their campsite, to tend to their wounds. Only a few fights prevailed. I could not see Tobias anywhere, yet body after body flooded the ground.

"Aedan I don't see him, do you think he's hurt somewhere-" I stopped and looked at Aedan. His eyes were not on me. In fact, they were staring straight ahead, where a lone figure stood near the Western Forest, his sword unsheathed and beckoning to us.

Aedan did not say a word, he simply walked toward the man, myself following behind.

Gafran raised his chin in mockery, his eyes smug with victory as he held his sword out. "I told you, Aedan, to stay away."

"And let the enemy seize what they should not have?" Aedan called in spite. Gafran smirked and let his eyes fall on me.

"I told you I would prove my worth, Captain," he spited. I concealed my sorrow, and stared hard at him.

"I pity you, Gafran. You chose darkness when I saw a light in you. You let your anger for your uncle outweigh your will for a better life. Please…do not fight us."

Aedan narrowed his eyes at me, and Gafran simply continued to look smug. "Still think you can win me over to your cause, aye Capn? You always were a soft spot."

"Please, Gafran, I know there is good in you, let go your hate!"

He looked back to Aedan. "You always were good to me, Aedan. Probably the closest thing I had to a brother. I did not kill you when I set the stables on fire, but if you do not leave I swear to you your blood will stain my blade."

"You killed our people, Gafran…" he began, his voice hoarse. "I trusted you with my life! You swore allegiance to Arthur, not some Saxon dog! And all this out of spite for Cormack?"

"Cormack was just an annoyance, you fool! Now he is dead, and I will have my revenge on the man who ruined my life!"

I stared at him, confused by his words. "But if you were not out to get Cormack-"

"Honestly, Arria, can't you figure it out? The man that ruined the name of my family, the man that drove my father from this land, the man that condemned me to a life of suffering and inferiority! Arthur."

I looked to Aedan, who seemed just as disturbed as me. Gafran continued, pacing back and forth with his blade still facing us. "Arthur exiled my father and forced me to fall prey to my uncles abuse! I have waited a long time to see him suffer the same way I have suffered! I took great pride in gutting his beloved Woad magician-"

"YOU murdered Merlin! YOU killed Conall and Remus? By gods, gafran, what have you done?" Aedan screamed, pulling his hair in horror.

Gafran, for a moment, softened his gaze at the sound of their names. "They were in the way of my plan…" he whispered, almost saddened. "If you hadn't have sent them,. they would still be alive."

My hands were clammy and my throat dry. "You fled the day Cormack returned to give Elmric information of our tactics. You've been coying with us all along."

"I HAD TO! DON'T YOU SEE? I only wanted to get rid of Arthur, but to do so would be to go through you…all of you! I never intended….but there was no going back! And Cormack was right. I did turn out to be like my father. You see, it was my father that betrayed Arthur to the Saxons at Badon. He gave them useful information and still they foiled it up! But I managed to do what my father could not. I defeated the mighty King Arthur." His eyes were narrowed and full of hate, his attempts to justify his actions only spurring his rage.

"You have not won, Gafran. He still lives, and in order to get through him you must come through me," Aedan challenged, his voice steady.

Gafran gulped, almost unsure of whether this was what he wanted. "I know you don't believe me, but I don't wish to hurt you. Stand aside."

I raised my sword next to Aedan's. "Our loyalties lie with our king, Gafran. I see now I made a mistake trying to help you become noble. I thought…I thought you had the potential to be a great leader."

My words struck a cord with him, and I watched as one, small tear made its way down his cheek. He lunged forward, striking at me first. I blocked his blow, swinging around to catch his unused shoulder. I was scared. I knew he was a much better swordsman than Aedan or myself. I was scared because I did not see the evil that had rested within his soul for so long. He parried Aedan's strike and pivoted his left foot forward, thrusting at me while blocking Aedan's concealed dagger. I barely blocked a vertical blow and faltered back. He kicked forward and knocked Aedan to the ground. I took this moment to slash at him from the side, but he instantly blocked it and cut into my arm, elbowing me in the face as he did. I fell to the ground, and Aedan threw dirt in Gafran's eyes, blinding him momentarily.

I rubbed my face in pain, but got up as Gafran swung viciously at his friend, catching Aedan's side as he howled in pain. He backed away while keeping his other arm up, the wound obviously deep.

"You cannot beat me, Arria. You know my power far suppresses yours."

"Indeed. But I on the other hand prove to be an interesting match," a voice said behind him. I smiled as Lancelot approached Gafran, both swords horizontally forward in combat position, his grin wide in arrogance. Gafran growled and turned to face the newcomer.

"I've always wanted to see if I could beat the great Sarmatian swordsman."

Lancelot kept grinning. "And I'd be delighted to give you a show."

I made my way over to Aedan as Gafran and Lancelot began their dance with blades. Aedan was lying on the ground, his right hand clinging to the wound to keep it from pouring. Quickly I ripped off a piece of my tunic and wrapped it around him as he fought to keep conscience. I myself could once more feel my own wounds burning as my head ached. It hurt to rise once more, but I had to help Lancelot. I would not let him fall.

He and Gafran intensely matched each blow for blow, reading each other's moves like a book. They anticipated the other's movements, looking for a hole to strike. At first I could only watch, unsure of how to get involved.

My move came when Lancelot tripped Gafran, and Gafran rolled out of the way as Lancelot struck down. I thrust downward, but he kicked me off balance. As I fell, he slashed my chest, and I cried out in sheer agony. Lancelot drove his sword forward while Gafran slashed me, and it cut shortly in his skin. An anger possessed Lancelot and he screamed as he lunged forward, this time Gafran barely able to block his blows. He slashed with his right and cut with his left, Gafran for the first time looking unnerved.

I sat on my knees, holding my chest as my heart beat slower and slower. My head was so heavy and I think blood was rapidly pouring off me. I was covered in red. My eyelids were heavy, or so heavy.

I watched as Lancelot continued to lash viciously, concentrating his anger on Gafran's weak left side. I put one hand forward to keep from falling over. "Please, Lancelot, don't fall.." I whispered.

Gafran swung wildly and cut into Lancelot's face, a huge streak of red across his left cheek.

For Lancelot, that was it. While Gafran swung low, stabbing his side, Lancelot at the same time jabbed the tip of his blade into Gafran's stomach. Then, with his other sword, he thrust forward while the boy was seething in pain, burying his left sword all the way through Gafran's body, the tip of it protruding from his back.

I got enough strength to hobble over to where Gafran fell, his body slowly rising and falling as he took in large breaths, staring at the sky. Lancelot fell back, sitting, breathing for what seemed to be the first time throughout the fight. I sat near Gafran, and he slowly shifted his head to look at me. He inhaled and exhaled, clearly life leaving his body.

I shook my head at him, letting him know my sorrow. He blinked, and then stared into my eyes. His last breath escaped him, his eyes still glancing at me in regret.

I coughed, blood escaping my mouth. Lancelot reached over and I let my body crawl into his arms as I sobbed, letting him hold me as blood stained us both.

"I couldn't save him," I whispered. Lancelot simply rocked me, caressing my forehead with his fingers.

"You did your best, dove. You did your best."

"I'm so sorry, Lance…I never shoul…I never…I love.."

"Arria?" he stopped rocking me, and looked into my eyes. Everything hurt. It felt cold. I could feel my body shaking, and all I wanted to do was close my eyes. It felt so good to be in his arms. Gotta be Arria. Don't show your weakness. Crack a joke or something, lighten the mood….

"Stay with me, Arria," he called, choked up. I blinked once, willing to obey him.

"Always," I whispered. I tried to smile, to let him know I was okay. But only in shadows did I lie.

Ugh, my back hurts. I think this is my quickest update, woohoo! Yea, so okay, that was kinda a long, hard read. Very emotional. Haha, too emotional for me. Rereading it makes me think its too gushy...o well. And yea, in the beginning when I said Gafran looked like Hayden Christiansen, haha, guess he kinda acts like Darth Vader too. I had wondered if any of you would pick up on it later. I'll update soon. It aint ova, baby. And yes, I know, Guinevere died, please dont kill me with your pitchforks, you knew it was coming. But I wanted her to go out a warrior, not by some sickness. Night.


	24. Facing the past

Author's Note Wow, so many reviews…me so excited! Glad your liking this story, its by far my favorite out of all my stories.

Chapter 24

My wounds were multiple, and it took me three whole days to wake. As I opened my eyes, I stared happily into his, his hand gripped into mine. Every bone in my body ached, and my head swelled. I tried to give a smile, but in my attempt a coughing fit pursued.

"Take it easy, dove," he whispered gently, stroking my hair. I could not see my surroundings, I could only look at him. I opened my mouth to ask a million questions, but he silenced me. "Rest. I'll tell you everything when your ready." There was a hidden sadness behind his teasing smile, but I did as he was told…a first.

A little later I was awakened by the sounds of two men outside my makeshift tent. They were talking in whispers, and I extended my ears to hear them clearly…to no avail.

I cleared my throat, and they took notice. In walked Lancelot and Bors.

Bors grinned and kissed me on the cheek. "There's my lass…knew you were too tough to leave us…" I noticed his neck was bandaged. "Neva seen a girl fight like that before…sure you don't have a penis underneath?"

I laughed as Lancelot said, "Believe me, she's all woman."

As his chuckles died, I noticed him look out beyond the tent. "Avery told me not to let you out…but I think you'll want to be there." At these words Bors looked somber, and realization hit of the past few days of events.

Lance helped me sit up, and made me gulp down some nasty concoction of Avery's. "I have so many questions," I stated, unsure of where to begin, and a bit scared of asking. He straightened his back and nervously cracked his neck.

"Thought you might. Avery told me not to bombard you with too much information, you still need to recover. For now, I've been told to help dress you…you'll only be allowed out for a little while…atleast until we make it safely to Dunhioban."

"Dress me? For what?"

His eyes flickered and I could tell he did not wish to look me in the eye. "Most of the bodies have been buried or burned. The Woads burn their dead, and the ceremony was put off until today for their queen."

I wanted to retch up my food at that moment, as a flash of blood scoured through my mind. My mind was numb to weeping, and I could only nod as he helped me stand. I quickly swallowed the pit in my throat, that feeling of utter dread that came every time someone I had loved died.

"Who else? Who else am I to mourn today, Lancelot?" I asked, not looking at him.

He sighed heavily, the burden of explaining the truth great. "We found Tobias two days ago, laying with his sword buried in the enemy's chest. Dying a true warrior."

I did not say anything for a moment, knowing all along that some of my friends would not live to see today. I covered my mouth with my hand, and tried to keep steady as Lancelot draped a cloak around me.

Outside awaited the caravan of warriors, those whose wounds were not dire and could stand to see the farewell ceremony of their queen. Bors explained that after the fight, Gawain led us north, and then selected a few warriors to return to bury the dead after the Saxons had left the battlefield. The Saxons now had control of the southern half of Britain.

"Will we fight them again soon?" I asked, pushing all my weight on Lancelot as I hobbled closer to the circle of soldiers.

Bors scoffed. "We may have lost the battle, but we have scarred them deeply. It will take them months to recover and still, they'll want to settle in on their new southern province before attacking anything further. We are safe for now."

My body protested to walking even but a few feet, but I commanded it too. I had to show respect for a friend.

Lancelot had me lean on him as we stopped in the front row. We were surrounded by Woads still painted in their traditional blue paint, and behind them were the countless warriors of every province my Riders contacted. In the middle, right in front of my eyes lay our queen, her body wrapped in cloth, covering her face. My sister.

Many were solemn, those who knew her as the fierce warrior or the kind noble. In a strange sense, I wanted to smile. None but I knew that she was destined to die soon anyway, and the fact that she left this earth on her terms, defending what she loved, brought pride to my heart. A figure walked through the men, his face the most torn of all. He kept his face high and appeared emotionless as his crown adorned his head. But I knew better.

Underneath Arthur was a mess. His eyes appeared soulless, as if the entire world had come crashing down. I could see his left hand was shaking, though he tried to cover it. In his right hand was a torch, and he made his way past Lancelot, Bors and I without glancing at us. As Corwin, the new Woad leader, sang words in an unknown tongue, Arthur lit the pyre beneath his beloved's body. As the flames surrounded her, eventually engulfing her into its essence, the men softly prayed to their gods to let her pass safely through to the Otherworld.

Arthur sank to his knees in defeat, still no sign of emotion on his scarred face. He closed his eyes and raised his hands upward, and I knew him to be crying out to the Lord, scorning Him. Other Woads were joining Corwin in their song of sorrow, their tune desolate and despairing of hope.

As flame became ash and ash became dust, many departed to give two lovers peace, as the night sky faded into the rising sun. "Will he be alright?" Aedan asked, helping Lancelot walk me back to the wagon as Bors collected my tent.

Lancelot simply shrugged. Bors looked to Gawain, and then at the ground. It seemed we all knew Arthur might never regain his ability to lead after such a heavy blow. But we wouldn't give up.

The caravan procession made its way north until nightfall. We were a two days ride southwest of Dunhioban, our new fort. Our new Camelot. Bors left us to ride east to Archenridge to gather up his children and wife. "Until things settle down, they stay with me. And I stay with Arthur," he said as he rode off.

When the large group rested, I noticed many breaking off to return to their homelands, those who were able. Many were to stay and see the king safely to the new castle being built. Others would stay on longer, and find their residence permanently with us. Those who were too wounded to move were placed inside the wagons and looked after by the healers. I saw Avery running back and forth between carriages, his face determined to save. Still acting the warrior even after the battle, I thought with a smile. Those who would not make the journey home were left in the hands of volunteers who vowed to be with them at the end. The priority was to see the king safely reach the fort.

I shared the wagon with two other severely wounded men, both of whom were of the land of Erin. Sorcha came in to talk to them in their unique tongue. While they were resting she turned to me.

"I see your anxious to get out." I was indeed restlessly staring out the window and stretching my muscles.

"There are those who are worse off than me that should be lying in here. I can ride."

She rolled her eyes and gave me a jug of water to drink. "So stubborn, you Brits are." She chuckled a bit. "Seems the roles are being reversed. Not long ago you were the one looking after me."

I managed to smile. "I suppose it wasn't long ago…feels like eternity." I brushed the drips of water from my lips and sighed. "How many of your men have you lost?"

"The warriors of Erin do not give up easily. Out of my father's men, we have lost only seven, and only four are severely wounded."

"And your father?"

"Riding with your knight as we speak."

I sighed relief and let my fingers go over one of my scars across my arm. "We did not win the battle. Does this mean our two lands will not unite in peace?"

"I'm not sure. My father now thinks highly of your king, but the news of this loss will not go over well back home. They will think our clan was a fool to side with you."

There was a moments silence between us. I looked out the window and saw Avery riding up to the wagon. "What are you going to do about him? Surely your people will return soon? I must say, you've made quite the impression on our jester."

She giggled and looked out to see him dismounting. "I have told my father where my heart lies. Though he disagrees quite fiercely with my choice, he will not stop me from making my own decision. I will stay with Avery."

Beneath all the anger and sorrow I had been feeling these past few days, a joy for my friend rose up inside me and I nodded my approval. At that moment Avery stepped inside, and Sorcha and I chuckled.

Once we arrived at the fort, everyone was immediately taken to their makeshift quarters. The Lord of Dunhioban happily began explaining to anyone who would listen his plans for completing the fortress. Upon seeing the fort from afar, I raised my eyebrows in respect for its immense size. Only half of the outer wall was completed, but the towers within were larger than any I'd seen in Briton, with architecture that was somewhat similar to Roman design.

I watched as the wounded were taken to their barracks, awaiting the eager hands of the castle healers. Because of my officer status, I was taken into one of the many personal rooms inside the fort. After the healer checked me over and changed my bandages, I was pleasantly surprised to have a visitor.

"Aedan, what are you doing here? Gawain told everyone to get some rest before meeting again" I stated, sitting up in my bed as he entered my room. He had a large cut on his forehead and a nasty wound to his side, but the tonics were working their magic and he gave me a half hearted smile.

"I know, I know, we all need our sleep…forgive me….but these past few days have plagued me with nightmares…and I didn't know how to approach the men with this." He looked down in disgust with himself, and it was in his eyes that mirrored back my own feelings when I had first arrived in Briton.

I signaled him to sit beside me on my soft bed, and he did so reluctantly. "Luckily I will not tease you like the others."

He pulled back a loose golden curl behind his ear. "I did not know I would come out of my first real battle feeling completely helpless and hollow. I could have saved him, Arria. He was like a young…stubborn, headstrong brother to me. And I failed to make him see the error of his ways."

He was letting me into his intimate thoughts, and I found that his own words registered with my thoughts of myself as well. "You cannot blame yourself, Aedan. I was his Captain; part of me blames myself for not being more fair with him. But he made his own choices, as did we. You will make a fine leader someday, Aedan. Your heart is in the right place. All we can give is our best, and we learn from our mistakes."

A weight seemed to be lifted from his shoulder, almost as if he needed to hear from someone that this was not his fault, in order for him to move on. He now looked me in the eyes, and strangely I saw fear.

"I saw many fall at Harrow's Field. Some blood will never escape my memory. I was scared out there, Arria. And yet…and yet I wasn't scared to die."

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. "What is it you fear?"

The look he gave me right then was my answer. He gulped in his anxiety. His voice became soft, just barely above a whisper, and his tone was heavy. "I have dreamed of that day in the armory every night. I have wished improper thoughts, and I have held that kiss close to my heart. It was at Harrow's Field that I felt the fear of losing you."

I closed my eyes as realization dawned. Indeed I had never forgotten our stolen kiss in the armory, but the events over the past few months had pushed its reminder far back in my mind.

"Months went by and we've never spoken of it. I can see now that your heart belongs to another, a knight who seems to be just as taken with you as I. I have suppressed my feelings, because my duty is to Arthur above all. After the battle…I feel as if my heart will never be free to love another until I confront its choice."

I was at a loss for words, and I even let my mouth open slightly in utter surprise. I have known for a long time he had been restraining what he yearned to do, and it was in his sense of piety that I truly saw his great ability to lead others.

I was not sure how to react to this, but did as I've always done. Spoke whatever words first entered my brain. "I must say, I should have been expecting this. It wasn't until recently that I found what my heart was searching for. I was not leading you on that night in the armory, Aedan. You were my shoulder to lean on. You will always be the brother I never had. One day, and hopefully soon, your soul will find its other half."

He was not disappointed with my answer. Instead, he took it with dignity and nodded his understanding. "Lancelot is a lucky man."

"Unless he decides to visit me soon, he's a dead man."

Aedan chuckled and turned to leave. I grabbed his arm. "Wait" I commanded, and promptly kissed him on the cheek. I smiled into his bright blue eyes.

"Even though you do not have my heart, Aedan, you have my trust. Never fear to come to me with a problem."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then left silently. As he shut the door, I had barely begun to snuggle underneath my sheets of comfort before a knock sounded once more. I sighed disdainfully. "Whoever it is better come bearing gifts" I shouted at the door.

It opened, and I did not bother to sit up, wasting energy. Instead I waited for the person to enter. When he did, he grinned slyly, his left hand filled with purple lilies. Placing them on a nearby stand, he slowly climbed in on top of my sheets, resting his head beside mine.

"Thought you might like to see some color on a dreary day like this," he said, his eyes playfully scanning mine.

"I do believe you can be quite charming at times, Sir Lancelot."

"Tis a gift, what can I say," he shrugged, letting his fingers slide down my cheek.

"Hmm, and I see I can cross off humility on your list of attributes."

He leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips, his gaze turning serious. "I saw Aedan walking out, looking a bit under the weather."

"We all are emotionally distressed right now Lancelot, even you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Me? I show no sign of weakness."

I knew he was toying and trying to cheer me up, so I played along. "That's not what I heard from some of the bar wenches. Though you may be charming, sir knight, apparently you cannot last more than a few minutes. Is not this a sign of weakness?"

He showed no indication of breaking his ego. "With me, you only need a few moments to experience the greatest pleasure in all the world. And when did you start believing the village gossip about my bedding skills?"

"All I know is that the girls look for you when they don't have a lot of time on their hands."

"Hmm, perhaps I need to prove my skillfulness in the art of seduction." He leaned in to kiss me once more, but I turned my head, making him touch my cheek instead.

"Your wounds must be healing fast if you speak of your desire to make love." I yawned violently, and snuggled against his chest. "We need rest if we are to restore what was lost to us." He wrapped his arms lightly around me, though not too tightly against my own wounds. He sighed heavily, and I knew he was drifting into sleep.

"I fear we will not regain the power to complete the vision Arthur once had" he whispered, his eyes closed as his breathing slowed into a light rhythmic pattern.

"Then we will pass it on to our children, so that perhaps they will have the strength to do what we could not," I whispered, my own eyelids getting heavier by the second.


	25. Epilogue

Well, my friends, every beginning has an end, and this is the end of Arria's story. I thank you all for your kind reveiws, and hope you enjoy the last chapter to this tale of long ago. I hope you review this last chap, its personally one of my faves, cuz it ultimately shows the growth of Arria from a lady of Rome to a knight of Arthur's Britain. Yes, I know women warriors were rare, but hey, its fun to empower the female species. We deserve estrogen power! Night.

Chapter 25

The battle of Harrow's Field was a heavy blow to our forces, but indeed did not defeat us as the Saxons predicted. All of our wounds healed in the coming months, as the Saxons tried little to make their way north to us. The warriors of Erin returned home, bearing the promise to tell of Arthur's wish to make peace with their island. Sorcha, as she told me, stayed with Avery.

There was much to be done over the next few months. Soldiers returned to their families and homelands, and new jobs were given to many refugees to help finish the fort. It was becoming so huge in size many began to call it a castle. Bors returned with his children, his wife, and many of his servants.

Arthur would not leave his room for several days, and it soon seemed as if Lancelot's prediction would come true. Unfortunately for Arthur, his companions would have no more of his sulking, and let him know of his need to come out of solitude.

After this episode he put up a front for us all, leading with the necessary ideas and enforcing orders on what needed to be done. But there was no spirit behind his words. No comfort in his eyes nor passion for justice. It was as if his zest for equality died along with his beloved.

Some things never change. One day as I was on my way to look at the new recruits for the King's Riders, I saw Avery giddily running away as Gabriel pursued, hotheaded, no doubt unnerved by some boyish prank. Gawain and Bors still knew how to make a mess after a few drinks, and Lancelot always tried his best to cunningly charm his way into my bed. Too bad for him I never gave him his ultimate fantasy. I still have morals.

"Does it bother you that I am the only one to resist such bullshit that comes from your mouth and hands?" I asked once when his fingers ventured farther down my chest than they should have.

He groaned his frustration and sighed. "Sometimes I wonder why it is that I chose such a stubborn lass."

I rolled over and rubbed my fingers along his bare chest. "Simple. I am your match. And I stop your ego from blowing up like a fat hog."

"You toy with my emotions, dear girl. You are the devil."

I kissed him on the lips and chuckled. "For that I am sorry. I suppose you have been rather patient with me."

He let his eyes shift across the features of my face, and his hand gently slid down my cheek. "Arria, you know I would go from the ends of the earth for you. I would wait for eternity to have you, if you made me." I smiled, but could not help but wonder why he had suddenly become so serious. He sat up and sighed, no longer showing off that devilish grin. "We lead the lives that legends are made of, and I have no doubt in my mind that our tale will end while we are young. We are warriors, this is the way of it. Yes, we have our differences. You are Christian, I am pagan. But one thing is for certain, and it is my love for you. So…if you will permit me, let me take you as my bride."

I did not give a moment's hesitation. I wrapped my arms around his back, my lips connecting with his, my mind giddy with delight. As our lips parted our foreheads touched, his breathing heavily awaiting my answer. "Its about time, sir knight" I whispered.

"So I take it that's a yes?" he whispered back, his arms tightly wrapped around me. I could tell he was overly exuberant with my reaction. He tucked a loose hair behind my ear, and cleverly kissed my neck.

"Yes."

News traveled fast among the men, and it seemed by noon I was being congratulated left and right by people I did not know.

"You're a dead man now, Lancelot," Bors attempted to whisper as he clasped hands with his comrade. "Once they sink their claws in ye, you'll never escape."

"I'll be sure to tell Vanora your loving words for her," I stated, his look of sheer terror priceless.

"Lancelot you dog!" Gawain exclaimed as he cornered us in the hall. "Mind you, this lass is like a sister to me, and if I hear any rumors of your betrayal.."

"Then you shall be the first to find his corpse" I finished, kissing my friend on the cheek. He guffawed loudly and whisked Lancelot away to the village bar for a celebration.

I declined to go with them, and instead made my way through the maze of hallways, finally arriving at my destination. Knocking loudly, I entered when no one answered and found him sitting at his desk, furiously writing away on a piece of parchment, his face impenetrable.

"Usually its not polite to barge in when no one answers the door" he gruffly stated, his right hand still rigorously taking notes. The lines on his face had grown deep. Indeed he had aged several years in only a few months time.

"Perhaps you should have thought of locking it," I said, not caring that I was being pert to my king.

He stopped writing and instead tapped his quill nonchalantly as his furrow deepened. "I do not wish to be disturbed, I have documents to record and battles to plan."

"Forgive me, Sire. But I promised a friend I would not let you fall- whether it be from a battle wound or your own emotional demons."

He slowly turned around to face me, his right hand dropping the quill unto the desk. "I am fine."

I raised my eyebrow and crossed my arms. "Honestly, Arthur, you're a horrible liar." He gruffed a response and got up, filling his cup with a strong ale.

"What do you want, Arria? To tell me everything will be alright? Tell me to let go of my pain and move on?"

I now placed my hands on my hips in frustration. "I want you to be the man you were born to be and save your people!"

"I told you, I'm in the middle of-"

"Your barricading yourself from the world to ignore the fact that she is no longer in it."

He smashed his glass on the floor. "I CANNOT FACE IT WITHOUT HER! THERE! You have heard the fears of an aging man who is not a god and cannot save his people from death."

"No one can be saved from death, my Lord," I whispered, still not daring to go near him while his fist was clenched. "All we have is the time given to us. The people need to build off your strength. Your tale does not end here, Arthur. There is something I must tell you, something she did not want you to know…"

He stared at me, perplexed by my words, willing me to go on as his lower lip quivered. "Guinevere…she….you know she could not bare children.."

He clenched his teeth together and turned away, his own arms folding at his sides. "Yes."

"She forbid the healers and myself to tell you the rest of it. Arthur, she was dying. Perhaps you already know this- she was looking sick for some time before the battle. She didn't want you to know, because she knew you'd do this."

He could only sit on the edge of his bed, his left hand holding up his forehead. He didn't speak for a few moments, just simply stared into the abyss. "I thought she was distraught for the loss of Merlin. I didn't know- I was such a fool-"

I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he remembered now that I was in the room. "She died on her terms, like the stubborn queen she is. Please Arthur, she does not wish you to cower away from your destiny. The vision you once had can still come true."

"The Saxons have taken-"

"We will fight them again another day, as will our children and their children. Their will always be an enemy to slay, and evil to battle. All we can do is hold on to our ideals of freedom and equality."

He rubbed his eyes with his hands, sighing repeatedly. "I did right when I appointed you to Captain of my Riders. Your father would be proud."

"As would Pelagius."

We sat their for a few moments, both of us reminiscing in our minds the early days of his kingship. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair, every few seconds smiling as he stared off, probably thinking of one of her pert comments.

"I heard Lancelot found his true love once more. I am happy for you." It took a lot for those words to come from his mouth, and I nodded my thanks.

"It was Guinevere who yelled at me to stop being an ass and forego my pride."

He chuckled. "Sounds like something my wife would say."

"Arthur, I must ask you something else. But perhaps now is not the time."

"Just ask. My commands have meant nothing to you in the past."

"Well, obviously you must have been feeling pressure from many Lords lately to produce an heir, to ensure stability in the future."

"I will tell you this once Arria, and you can repeat it to anyone who wants to know. I will never take another woman into my bed. My heart belongs to Guinevere alone."

I nodded. "I thought as much. In that case- permit me to make a suggestion, because dark times are upon us, and who knows when we all will fall. Perhaps, you will consider an alternative."

"Go on, Captain."

"Adopt an heir. Not just any boy, my Lord, but one your wife cared for."

It took him a moment, but he eventually smiled. "You speak of Lucan."

"No one can deny Guinevere showed much affection for the boy. And I've heard in the short time he was with Dagonet he thought of him as a father. Perhaps, in time, you could be such a father to him."

"The nobles will not take well to a boy not of my blood."

"Better a boy who grew up with the King than dispute among the lords for their own lazy sons to ascend the throne."

He scrunched his nose in thought, and then turned back to me. "Advisor as well as warrior. You never cease to amaze me, Captain."

I shrugged my shoulders and turned to leave. "I will always be behind you, my Lord."

Epilogue

I barely remember the ceremony that occurred a few days later. All I could think about was our wedding night, where I found to my delight that Lancelot was just as good as the rumors portrayed him to be, if not better.

Indeed, all his sexual frustrations were laid to rest the moment Arthur deemed us man and wife.

"Ready for another go?" I asked one night after four rounds of pure pleasure. He was sweating and exhaling loudly, his body desperate for rest. "Woman, you have got to be the most exhausting girl I have ever had."

"Told you I was worth it," I playfully stated, grinning wide. He shook his head and competitively pulled my body towards him.

"Indeed" he stated, caressing my chest with his lips.

Over the years the Saxons attempted many times to break north of Harrow's Field and conquer more land, but our spirits would not be crushed. We held them off, generation after generation, until slowly but surely the Saxons took control of Briton. But in Arthur's time, despite the Saxon incursions, prosperity flourished. A freedom most commoners had never experienced occurred. The finished castle was renamed Camelot after the old fort, and the honor and bravery Arthur's knights displayed was made legend.

Five years after Badon I was made Knight, the first female ever to do so. Aedan took over as Captain of the King's Riders, ensuring equality for all and suffering at the hands of lords for none. Vanora had three more children, nine of which joined their father as knights of the Round.

I will not say how my comrades died, because I would rather explain how they lived…as heroes. Lancelot and I went into great depths to explain to our children what we fought for and where they come from, for the key to the future is through the actions of the past. As I grew older and could no longer carry a sword at my side, I took to scripting and documentation. Perhaps some of you will assume I made this whole thing up to appeal to the entertainment of the public. Perhaps I did. The point is not whether Arthur and his knights truly did everything the stories say. The point, dear sons of Adam and daughters of Eve, is that Arthur and his knights of the Round stood for something greater than themselves. And they passed it on to you.


End file.
